ENGLISH READINGS-FOR SCHOOLS 




ENGLISH 



READING5-FOR 



SCHOOLS 






Cnglfefj &eabmgg for Retools! 

GENERAL EDITOR 
WILBUR LUCIUS CROSS 

PROFESSOR OF ENGLISH IN YALE UNIVERSITY 




William Shakespeare 
The Chandos portrait 



SHAKESPEARE'S 
AS YOU LIKE IT 



EDITED BY 

JOHN W. CUNLIFFE 

AND 

GEORGE ROY ELLIOTT 
% 

OF THE UNIVERSITY OF WISCONSIN 




NEW YORK 

HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY 
1911 






Copyright, 1911, 

BY 

HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY 



w 

V 



©CLA289201 



CONTENTS 

Introduction page 

I. Shakespeare's Life and Works . . . . vii 

II. As You Like It xii 

Descriptive Bibliography xxv 

As You Like It i 

Notes and Comment 113 

Questions on the Play 155 

Glossary 159 

William Shakespeare, The Chandos Portrait . Frontispiece 

Anne Hathaway's Cottage. 1827 vi 

Interior of Fortune Theater xxx 



INTRODUCTION 



SHAKESPEARE'S LIFE AND WORKS 

William Shakespeare was born on April 22 or 23, 
1564, at Stratford-on-Avon, a charming market-town in 
Warwickshire, one of the loveliest of English counties. 
His father was a small farmer from a neighboring vil- 
lage, who succeeded in establishing himself in Stratford 
as a dealer in various kinds of agricultural produce, be- 
came an alderman, and held various municipal offices. 
William Shakespeare doubtless attended Stratford Gram- 
mar School, and there acquired the "small Latin and 
less Greek" his friend Ben Jonson later credited him 
with; in after life, he appears to have acquired a read- 
ing knowledge of French and perhaps of Italian. But 
he left school at an early age, his father being by this 
time involved in business difficulties, and the outlook 
was not improved by Shakespeare's marriage at eighteen 
to Anne Hathaway, a woman eight years older than him- 
self. Two or three years later, according to tradition, 
he was concerned in a deerstealing adventure, which com- 
pelled him to leave Stratford, but at twenty-one Shake- 

vii 



viii Introduction 

speare found himself with a wife and three children to 
provide for, and his father was at the lowest ebb of his 
fortunes; in 1586-7 writs were issued against John 
Shakespeare, he was deprived of his aldermanship, and 
he appears to have been imprisoned for debt. It seems 
therefore more probable that it was the needs of Shake- 
speare's family that drove him about this time to seek 
fortune in London, as many another English boy from 
the country has done, before and since. The first theaters 
had just been built, and with one of the companies of 
actors Shakespeare became connected in some subordinate 
capacity. Writing for the public stage was regarded by 
a little band of university wits as their prerogative, and 
when Shakespeare was employed by his company, not 
only to act plays, but to write them, he was attacked 
by one of the professional dramatists as an "upstart crow" 
who presumed to compose blank verse without the ad- 
vantages of a university education. This was in 1592 — 
the first certain date in Shakespeare's dramatic career — 
and the attack was at once followed by an apology from 
the person responsible for its publication, testifying to 
Shakespeare's excellence as an actor and a writer, his 
uprightness of character, and gentlemanly behavior. 

In 1593-4 Shakespeare established his place in the lit- 
erary world by the publication of the two poems, Venus 
and Adonis and Lucrece, marked by sweetness of ver- 
sification and luxuriance of imagery, and modeled on the 
style of Ovid, a Latin writer then much admired. About 
the same period he probably began to compose his sonnets, 
though they were not published till long after, and then 



Shakespeare's Life and Works ix 

without his consent; they were addressed to private 
persons and circulated in manuscript, in accordance with 
the fashion of the time. The publishing trade was still 
in its infancy, and authors had not yet fully realized the 
opportunities of profit afforded by the printing press. 
The theatrical companies regarded the plays written for 
them as their own property, and did not encourage pub- 
lication. Shakespeare apparently made no effort to secure 
the transmission of his dramatic work to posterity. No 
complete edition of his plays was issued until seven years 
after his death; and the single plays published during 
his life-time were printed by the enterprise of individual 
publishers, who bought the manuscript from needy actors, 
or had the lines taken down in shorthand at the theater, 
or induced the company to let them have a copy. The first 
of these quarto editions, (as they are called), which have 
come down to us, is Titus Andronicus, dated 1594; and at 
Christmas of the same year Shakespeare acted with the 
rest of his company before the Queen, as the royal 
accounts show. 

Although full and precise information is lacking, we 
may be certain that the last decade of the sixteenth cen- 
tury was a period of intense dramatic activity for Shake- 
speare and of rapid and assured success. We have seen 
that as early as 1592 his achievements as a playwright 
were sufficient to evoke an expression of contemptuous 
dislike from a jealous competitor; in 1598 Francis Meres, 
a university man who wrote a literary guide or hand- 
book, said that Shakespeare "among the English is the 
most excellent in both kinds (i. e. comedy and tragedy) for 



x Introduction 

the stage." He gave a list of Shakespeare's plays as 
evidence of this statement, mentioning among the com- 
edies now known to us the Two Gentlemen of Verona, 
The Comedy of Errors, Love's Labour s Lost, A Mid- 
summer Night's Dream, and A Merchant of Venice; 
among the histories, Richard II, Richard III, Henry IV, 
and King John; among the tragedies, Titus Andronicus, 
and Romeo and Juliet. Other indications point to 
Shakespeare's established position about this time as a 
successful and prosperous man. He returned to Stratford 
to restore the fallen fortunes of his family, and in 1597 
bought the largest house in the town. The Herald's Col- 
lege certified his position as a gentleman by granting a 
coat of arms to his father. He was in the enjoyment of a 
considerable income, not merely from his acting and play- 
writing, but from a part-interest (one-fourteenth) in 
the two theaters (the Globe and the Blackfriars) con- 
trolled by the company with which he was connected. 
At this period Shakespeare and his associates were known 
as "the Lord Chamberlain's men," (an aristocratic pa- 
tron being required by law), and on the accession of 
James I in 1603 they were taken under the immediate 
patronage of the King. 

We know that Henry V was written in 1599; that 
Much Ado About Nothing and As You Like It were in 
existence in 1600; and that Twelfth Night was acted in 
1602; but the dates of many of the later plays are un- 
certain. It is probable that in the early years of the 
seventeenth century Shakespeare produced the succession of 
tragic masterpieces — Hamlet, Othello, King Lear, Mac- 



Shakespeare's Life and Works xi 

beth — and that during the same period he was at work 
on the great series of Roman plays beginning with Julius 
Caesar. Cymbeline, A Winter s Tale, and The Tem- 
pest belong to a later group, sometimes called the "ro- 
mances" — plays with happy endings but distinguished 
from the earlier comedies by extraordinary delicacy of 
characterization, and a suffused atmosphere of romance, 
which, like a sunset glow, round off the great dramatist's 
career. 

By this time, though retaining his financial interests 
in the theaters, Shakespeare had retired to Stratford. 
One of his earliest biographers says: "The latter part of 
Shakespeare's life was spent, as all men of good sense 
will wish theirs may be, in ease, retirement, and the con- 
versation of his friends." Among these were Ben Jon- 
son and Michael Drayton, two of the leading poets of 
the time, and there is a tradition that a "merry meeting" 
they had at Stratford in the spring of 1616 hastened 
Shakespeare's end. But he appears to have been in failing 
health in January, for he then made his will, leaving his 
property to his married daughters, and memorial rings 
to his fellow actors. He died on April 23 — the day 
given to the festival of St. George, the patron saint of 
England — and was buried in the chancel of Stratford 
Church — not because he was a famous dramatist, but 
because he was the owner of the local tithes. 



xii Introduction 

II 
AS YOU LIKE IT 

Copyright was secured in Elizabethan England by en- 
tering a play on the Register of the Company of Sta- 
tioners or Booksellers, and As You Like It is mentioned 
in 1600 (August 4) among plays "to be stayed," i.e., to 
be withheld from publication, presumably pending in- 
quiry as to the publisher's right to print them. Much 
Ado About Nothing (which was included in the same 
list) was actually published later in the same year, but 
we have no copy of As You Like It earlier than the folio 
or collected edition of 1623, upon which the present text 
is based. The general character and style of the play 
indicate that it was written not long before 1600; as it 
was not included by Meres in the list mentioned above, 
the presumption is that it was later than 1598. The 
latter half of 1599 or the earlier half of 1600 is the date 
generally accepted. 

Shakespeare rarely took the trouble to invent the plots 
of his plays: he took a story already known to his au- 
dience, either on the stage or by means of books, and 
filled it with new life. In some cases {Romeo and Juliet 
and Hamlet for instance) the old play Shakespeare used 
has disappeared; but As You Like It was founded upon 
a novel which has come down to us. Thomas Lodge's 
Rosalind was written only a dozen years before the play 
which Shakespeare made out o l f it; it was printed in 



As You Like It xiii 

1590, again in 1592, and again in 1598, and must have 
been well known to many of those who came to see As 
You Like It. It was doubtless for this reason that Shake- 
speare dealt less freely with his original in this case than 
he often did with an old play or an Italian novel; the 
incidents and persons, though inspired for the first time 
with the breath of life by the touch of Shakespeare's 
hand, aire in the main the same in the comedy as in the 
story. Lodge's Rosalind is a pastoral romance — i.e. a 
tale of the adventures of knights and ladies who take re- 
fuge from the cares and restrictions of court in the 
simple life of shepherds and foresters, fall in love with 
each other, and find vent for their passions in writing 
poetry. At the opening of the story Sir John of Bor- 
deaux, lying on his death bed, bequeathes his estate (with 
much sage advice) to his three sons, Saladyne (the Oliver 
of our play), Fernandyne (Jaques de Boys), and Rosader 
(Orlando). Saladyne through avarice deprives his 
younger brothers of their inheritance, the second being a 
student lost in his books, and the third, Rosader, kept at 
home in servile subjection, and employed in menial tasks. 
After two or three years Rosader rebels, and drives Sa- 
ladyne, who orders his servants to bind him, to take 
refuge in a loft. Saladyne, having effected a reconcilia- 
tion by the promise of redress, plots the destruction of 
Rosader by the champion wrestler at the court of Toris- 
mond, king of France, (Duke Frederick), who has driven 
the rightful occupant of the throne, his brother Geris- 
mond (Duke Senior), into banishment, and seeks to 
amuse his subjects with a tournament and wrestling 



xiv Introduction 

match. Rosalind, the daughter of Gerismond, and Alinda 
(Celia), the daughter of the reigning king, are present at 
the tournament, and Rosader, as he steps into the ring 
to meet the victorious wrestler, who has just slain two 
contestants, is entranced by the sight of Rosalind. The 
champion rouses him from his trance by shaking his 
shoulder, and Rosader, fired by an encouraging glance 
from Rosalind, throws his opponent to the ground, " fall- 
ing upon his chest with so willing a weight, that the 
Norman yielded nature her due and Rosader the victory." 

Rosalind, touched with the beauty and valor of Rosa- 
der, sent him a jewel from her neck as a present, and 
he, unable to return her the like, stepping into a tent, 
took ink and paper and wrote her a poem. Returning 
home with a troop of boon companions, he found Sala- 
dyne had barred the door against him; but he broke his 
way in, and feasted and frolicked with his friends. Mean- 
while Rosalind consoled her newly-entertained passion by 
singing to her lute one of Lodge's most charming lyrics. 

Rosalind had scarcely ended her madrigal when Toris- 
mond entered, and pronounced sentence of exile upon 
her. When his daughter Alinda protested, he banished 
her too. They set forth together, Rosalind dressed as a 
page and calling herself Ganymede, Alinda in homelike 
attire under the name of Aliena. Arriving in the forest 
of Arden, they came across two shepherds, Montanus 
and Corydon (Silvius and Corin), discoursing poetry to 
each other, and took refuge with them. Next day they 
bought the farm and flock, Aliena putting on the attire 
of a shepherdess, and Ganymede that of a young swain. 



As You Like It xv 

Saladyne for a long time concealed his resolution of 
revenge, but his base treatment and violence ultimately 
drove Rosader to flee for his life, in company with Adam 
Spencer, his father's old servant. They took their way 
towards the forest of Arden, where, after wandering five 
or six days without food, they arrived almost famished. 
Adam Spencer, being old, began first to faint, and Rosa- 
der left him to find food. 

"It chanced that day, that Gerismond, the lawful king of 
France banished by Torismond, who with a lusty crew of out- 
laws lived in that forest, that day in honor of his birth made 
a feast to all his bold yeomen, and frolicked it with store of wine 
and venison, sitting all at a long table under the shadow of 
lemon trees. To that place by chance fortune conducted Rosa- 
der, who, seeing such a crew of brave men, having store of 
that for want of which he and Adam perished, stepped boldly 
to the board's end, and saluted the company thus: 

'Whatsoever thou be that art master of these lusty squires, 
I salute thee as graciously as a man in extreme distress may: 
know that I and a fellow-friend of mine are here famished in 
the forest for want of food: perish we must, unless relieved by 
thy favors. Therefore, if thou be a gentleman, give meat to 
men, and to such men as are every way worthy of life. Let the 
proudest squire that sits at thy table rise and encounter with me 
in any honorable point of activity whatsoever, and if he and 
thou prove me not a man, send me away comfortless. If thou 
refuse this, as a niggard of thy cates, I will have amongst you 
with my sword; for rather will I die valiantly, than perish 
with so cowardly an extreme.' 

Gerismond, looking him earnestly in the face, and seeing so 
proper a gentleman in so bitter a passion, was moved with so 
great pity, that rising from the table, he took him by the hand 
and bade him welcome, willing him to sit down in his place, 
and in his room not only to eat his fill, but be lord of the feast. 

'Gramercy, sir,' quoth Rosader, 'but I have a feeble friend 
that lies hereby famished almost for food, aged and therefore 
less able to abide the extremity of hunger than myself, and dis- 
honor it were for me to taste one crumb, before I made him 
partner of my fortunes: therefore I will run and fetch him, and 
then I will gratefully accept of your proffer.' 



xvi Introduction 

Away hies Rosader to Adam Spencer, and tells him the news, 
who was glad of so happy fortune, but so feeble he was that he 
could not go; whereupon Rosader got him up on his back, and 
brought him to the place. Which when Gerismond and his 
men saw, they greatly applauded their league of friendship; and 
Rosader, having Gerismond's place assigned him, would not sit 
there himself, but set down Adam Spencer." 

When Rosader told who he was, he was welcomed by 
the king, and in reply to questions as to court happen- 
ings he told Gerismond of the banishment of Rosalind 
and Aliena. Preferred to the place of a forester by 
Gerismond, Rosader was engaged in carving on a tree 
a sonnet in praise of Rosalind, when Ganymede and 
Aliena came upon him. "Reading the sonnet over, and 
hearing him name Rosalind, Aliena looked on Ganymede 
and laughed, and Ganymede, looking back on the forester, 
and seeing it was Rosader, blushed; yet thinking to 
shroud all under her page's apparel, she boldly returned 
to Rosader," and inquired about his Rosalind. Next day, 
at Ganymede's request, Rosader brought more poems in 
praise of his mistress, and was kept to dinner. As soon 
as they had finished their repast, Rosader, giving them 
thanks for his good cheer, would have taken his leave; 
but Ganymede, loth to let him go, said: "Seeing thou 
sayest thou art so deeply in love, let me see how thou 
canst woo: I will represent Rosalind, and thou shalt be 
as thou art, Rosader. . . . And while we sing o'f love, 
Aliena shall tune her pipe and play us melody." Ac- 
cordingly, while Aliena plays, the lovers engage in a 
"wooing eclogue" in verse, at the end of which Ganymede 
said: "How now, forester, have I not fitted your turn? 



As You Like It xvii 

have I not played the woman handsomely, and shown 
myself as coy in grants as courteous in desires, and been 
as full of suspicion as men of flattery? and yet to salve 
all, jumped I not all up with the sweet union of love? 
Did not Rosalind content her Rosader?" The forester 
made a merry reply, concluding: "Yet do I take these 
follies for high fortunes, and hope these feigned affections 
do divine some unfeigned end of ensuing fancies." 

"'And thereupon,' quoth Aliena, Til play the priest: from this 
day forth Ganymede shall call thee husband, and thou shalt 
call Ganymede wife, and so we'll have a marriage.' 

'Content,' quoth Rosader, and laughed. 

'Content,' quoth Ganymede, and changed as red as a rose: and 
so with a smile and a blush, they made up this jesting match, 
that after proved to a marriage in earnest, Rosader full little 
thinking he had wooed and won his Rosalind." 

Saladyne, meanwhile, had been banished by the avari- 
cious Torismond, who had an eye 'for his estate; in his 
flight, he chanced upon the forest of Arden, where, hun- 
gry and weary, he fell asleep. He was found by a lion, 
which watched to see if he would stir, for lions hate to 
prey on dead carcasses. Upon them came Rosader with 
a boar-spear in his hand, and after some debate with him- 
self rescued his brother, who failed to recognize him, and 
expressed to his savior his repentance for the wrongs he 
had done Rosader. A mutual reconciliation followed, 
and Saladyne was also admitted to the service of the 
banished king. After spending two or three days with 
his brother, Rosader again visited Ganymede and Aliena, 
and was conversing with them when they were attacked 
by rascals who plotted to carry off Aliena. Rosader re- 



xviii Introduction 

sisted the attack, was sore wounded, and would have 
been overcome had not Saladyne, who was looking for 
him, come to the rescue, and put the rascals to flight. 
Aliena, attracted by Saladyne's valor and courtesy, cast 
an eye of affection on him, and was soon won to consent 
to marry him. 

"Quoth Ganymede, 'a happy day should it be, if Rosader 
that day might be married to Rosalind.' 

'Ah, good Ganymede,' quoth he, 'by naming .Rosalind, renew 
not my sorrows; for the thought of her perfections is the thrall 
of my miseries.' 

'Tush, be of good cheer, man,' quoth Ganymede: 'I have a 
friend that is deeply experienced in necromancy and magic; 
what art can do shall be acted for thine advantage. I will 
cause him to bring in Rosalind, if either France or any bordering 
nation harbor her; and upon that take the faith of a young 
shepherd.' " 

At the marriage day Gerismond is much interested in 
the laments of Montanus, whom Phoebe has forsaken for 
Ganymede. 

"Gerismond, desirous to prosecute the end of these passions, 
called in Ganymede, who, knowing the case, came in graced 
with such a blush, as beautified the crystal of his face with a 
ruddy brightness. The king, noting well the physiognomy of 
Ganymede, began by his favors to call to mind the face of his 
Rosalind, and with that fetched a deep sigh. Rosader, that was 
passing familiar with Gerismond, demanded of him why he 
sighed so sore. 

'Because, Rosader,' quoth he, 'the favor of Ganymede puts me 
in mind of Rosalind.' 

At this word Rosader sighed so deeply, as though his heart 
would have burst. 

'And what's the matter,' quoth Gerismond, 'that you quite 
me with such a sigh?' 

'Pardon me, sir,' quoth Rosader, 'because I love none but Rosa- 
lind.' 

'And upon that condition,' quoth Gerismond, 'that Rosalind 



As You Like It xix 

were here, I would this day make up a marriage betwixt her 
and thee.' " 

******** 

"In went Ganymede and dressed herself in woman's attire, 
having on a gown of green, with kirtle of rich sendal, so 
quaint, that she seemed Diana triumphing in the forest; upon 
her head she wore a chaplet of roses, which gave her such a 
grace that she looked like Flora perked in the pride of all her 
flowers. Thus attired came Rosalind in, and presented herself 
at her father's feet, with her eyes full of tears, craving his bless- 
ing, and discoursing unto him all her fortunes, how she was 
banished by Torismond, and how ever since she lived in that 
country disguised. 

Gerismond, seeing his daughter, rose from his seat and fell 
upon her neck, uttering the passions of his joy in watery plaints, 
driven into such an ecstasy of content, that he could not utter 
one word. At this sight, if Rosader was both amazed and joyful, 
I refer myself to the judgment of such as have experience in 
love, seeing his Rosalind before his face whom so long and deeply 
he had affected. At last Gerismond recovered his spirits, and in 
most fatherly terms entertained his daughter Rosalind, after 
many questions demanding of her what had passed between her 
and Rosader? 

'So much, sir,' quoth she, 'as there wants nothing but your 
grace to make up the marriage.' 

'Why, then,' quoth Gerismond, 'Rosader, take her; she is 
thine, and let this day solemnize both thy brother's and thy 
nuptials.' 

Rosader, beyond measure content, humbly thanked the king, 
and embraced his Rosalind, who turning to Phoebe, demanded 
if she had shown sufficient reason to suppress the force of her 
loves. 

'Yea,' quoth Phoebe, 'and so great a persuasive, that if it 
please you, madame, and Aliena to give us leave, Montanus 
and I will make this day the third couple in marriage.' " 

Rosader and Saladyne were still engaged in the wed- 
ding festivities, when their brother Fernandyne brought 
word that the twelve peers of France were fighting on 
the edge of the forest on behalf of Gerismond against the 
usurper. Reinforced by Gerismond and his companions. 
the peers put to flight the army of Torismond, who was 



xx Introduction 

slain in the battle. Gerismond was restored to his throne, 
and "created Rosader heir apparent to the kingdom; he 
restored Saladyne to all his father's land and gave him 
the Dukedom of Namours; he made Fernandyne prin- 
cipal secretary to himself; and that fortune might every 
way seem 'frolic, he made Montanus lord over all the 
forest of Arden, Adam Spencer Captain of the King's 
Guard, and Corydon master of Alinda's flocks." 

While it is obvious that Shakespeare found in Lodge 
the outline of his plot, he did not merely dramatize the 
story, which, without the use he has made of it, would 
have been known only to literary specialists. A compari- 
son of the play with its source does not decrease our 
admiration for Shakespeare; it rather makes us the more 
amazed, that out of such materials he could create a work 
of art of everlasting interest and value. Exactly how he 
did it is the secret of his genius, and must be sought in a 
thousand little touches which give life and veracity to 
what was before artificial and dead. Some of the more 
important changes may, however, be indicated. Shake- 
speare added new characters of his own imagining: 
Touchstone and Jaques, William and Audrey, — adding 
thereby to Lodge's conventional courtiers and shepherds 
living representatives of courtly wit and wisdom on the 
one hand, and country boorishness and simplicity on the 
other. Moreover, the characters suggested by Lodge's 
novel are no less Shakespeare's creations, for he first gave 
them life and probability. We shall search the novel in 
vain for the sprightly wit of Rosalind, founded on deep 
feeling and sound common sense; or for Celia's gentler 



As You Like It xxi 

playfulness and quick affection ; or for Orlando's ingenuous 
modesty and trustfulness. What happened to them we 
can find, in the main, in Lodge; but it was Shakespeare 
who made them real to us — living persons with distinct 
and charming individuality. Next to this all-important 
change is the difference between the conventional atmos- 
phere o'f pastoral romance and the imaginative realism of 
romantic comedy. Shakespeare's forest of Arden has no 
existence in real life any more than Lodge's, but while 
in Lodge we are constantly reminded that everything is 
hollow and artificial, in the play the people are natural 
and lifelike. Even in the plot Shakespeare made changes 
which make the story run more smoothly and reasonably. 
He omitted the improbable incident of the tyrant's ban- 
ishment of his own daughter, and by connecting Orlando 
with the disappearance of the two girls made the treatment 
of the eldest brother by Duke Frederick more probable. 
The meeting between Rosalind and Orlando in the forest 
is managed with infinitely greater skill and naturalness in 
the play than in the novel. On the other hand, the omis- 
sion of the attack on Ganymede and Aliena by the rascals 
leaves the latter's falling in love with Oliver less ade< 
quately accounted for. The poet Swinburne deplored 
this " unlucky slip of the brush which has left so ugly 
a little smear in one corner of the canvas," but without 
the message which Oliver brings of the wounding of 
Orlando, we could not have had the scene of Rosalind's 
swooning at the end of Act IV, which has been justly 
regarded as the most natural and moving of the whole 
play. 



xxii Introduction 

Of the literary merits of the play an admirable esti- 
mate has been recently given by Professor A. C. Bradley 
in his Oxford Lectures on Poetry (1909) : — " If we were 
obliged to answer the question which of Shakespeare's 
plays contains, not indeed the fullest picture of his mind, 
but the truest expression of his nature and habitual 
temper, unaffected by special causes of exhilaration or 
gloom, I should be disposed to choose As You Like It. 
He who is reading it has a smooth brow and smiling lips, 
and a heart that murmurs, 

Happy is your grace, 
That can translate the stubbornness of fortune 
Into so quiet and so sweet a style. 

And it is full not only of sweetness, but of romance, fun, 
humor of various kinds, delight in the oddities of human 
nature, love of modesty and fidelity and high spirit and 
patience, dislike of scandal and censure, contemplative 
curiosity, the feeling that in the end we are all merely 
players, together with a touch of the feeling that 

Then is there mirth in heaven 
When earthly things made even 
Atone together. 

And, finally, it breathes the serene holiday mood of escape 
from the toil, competition, and corruption of city and 
court into the sun and shadow and peace of the country, 
where one can be idle and dream and meditate and sing, 
and pursue or watch the deer as the fancy takes one, and 
make love or smile at lovers according to one's age. 



As You Like It xxiii 

" It may be added that As You Like It, though idyllic, 
is not so falsely idyllic as some critics would make it. 
It is based, we may roughly say, on a contrast between 
court and country; but those who inhale virtue from 
the woodland are courtiers who bring virtue with them, 
and the country has its churlish masters and unkind or 
uncouth maidens." 



DESCRIPTIVE BIBLIOGRAPHY 

(Prepared by Professor F. E. Pierce of Yale) 

There are several convenient handbooks on Shakespeare, 
among which may be mentioned : 

An Introduction to Shakespeare, by MacCracken, Pierce, and Dur- 
ham, (Macmillan Co., New York, 1910.) 
Shakspere, by Edward Dowden. (American Book Co., New York.) 

A simple, compact, and readable book. It should be used in 

connection with a more modern work, as recent research has 

changed our ideas of Elizabethan theaters somewhat since the 

book was written. 
Life of Shakespeare, by Sidney Lee. (Macmillan Co., New York, 

1909.) The latest life of Shakespeare printed. 
Shakespeare, Life and Works, by Furnivall and Munro. (Cas- 

sell and Co., New York, 1908.) 

Not especially adapted for the use of young students, but full 

of valuable material in a condensed form. 
Cartae Shakespeareanae, by D. H. Lambert. (George Bell and 

Sons, London, 1904.) 

A series of reprints of the original documents on which our 

knowledge of Shakespeare is based. 
Shakespeare's London, by H. T. Stephenson. (Henry Holt and Co., 

New York.) 

An account c? Elizabethan London, with numerous valuable 

illustrations. 
Shakspere and his Predecessors, by F. S. Boas. (Chas. Scribner's 

Sons, New York, 1896.) 

Among the best editions of Shakespeare's works in 
one volume are: 

The Cambridge Edition, edited by Professor W. A. Neilson. 

(Houghton Mifflin Co., Boston, 1908.) 
The Globe Edition. (Macmillan Co., New York, 1897.) 

XXV 



xxvi Descriptive Bibliography 

The plays assigned by modern scholarship wholly or in 
part to Shakespeare are thirty-seven in number. Six- 
teen of them were published separately during the poet's 
life, and the others were not printed until after his death. 
In 1623 thirty-six of the above plays (all except Pericles) 
were collected by the friends and fellow actors of the 
dead poet and published together in the First Folio. 
Pericles was added in the Third Folio in 1664. These 
thirty-seven plays, loosely classified, comprise the follow- 
ing: 



I. EARLY PLAYS BEFORE SHAKESPEARE HAD 
REACHED HIS FULL POWER 



King Henry VI, Parts I, II, III. 

A series of historical events, unfolding the gradual decline 
of English power and the growth of civil war under a weak 
king. 

Titus Andronicus. 
A powerful but brutal play, unlike any of Shakespeare's later 
work. 

Love's Labour's Lost. 

A picture in brilliant dialogue of the lighter side of court life. 

The Comedy of Errors. 
A farcical comedy, depending on mistaken identity of twins. 

The Tivo Gentlemen of Verona. 
A romantic comedy, dealing with the disguises and adventures 
of lovers. 

A Midsummer Night's Dream. 

A love story and fairy tale combined. 

Romeo and Juliet. 

A tragedy of love, in which the hero and heroine become vic- 
tims of an ancient feud between their families. 



Descriptive Bibliography xxvii 

Richard II. 

Richard III. 

King John. 

Three historical dramas, each dealing with the struggles and 
downfall of an English king. 



II. THE PERIOD OF GREAT HISTORIES AND 
COMEDIES 

The Merchant of Venice. 
The story of two young lovers who are brought together by 
the devotion of a faithful friend, and who in turn save this 
friend from the revenge of Shylock the Jew. 

The Taming of the Shrew. 
An ingenious farcical comedy, in which a shrewish wife is 
tamed into gentleness. 

King Henry IV, Parts I and II. 

Stately pictures of English civil wars, interspersed with the 
delightful comedy of Falstaff and his companions. 

King Henry V. 

A picture of the English conquests in France, centering around 
Henry V as a national hero. 

Merry Wives of Windsor. 

A laughable series of practical jokes played on Falstaff. 

Much Ado About Nothing. 

As You Like It. 

Twelfth Night. 
Three romantic comedies of the highest rank. Much Ado 
combines the delightful wit-combats of Beatrice and Benedict 
with the touching story of a lady unjustly accused but finally 
cleared. As You Like It is a picture of pastoral life far from 
the world's uproar in the forest of Arden. Twelfth Night 
traces the fortunes of a shipwrecked heroine who by unselfish 
devotion wins a noble lover. 

All's Well That Ends Well. 

Troilus and Cressida. 

Measure for Measure. 

Three bitter, sarcastic comedies, revealing the baser aspects of 
human nature. 



xxviii Descriptive Bibliography 



III. THE PERIOD OF GREAT TRAGEDIES 

Julius Casar. 

A picture of the national upheaval connected with the death 
of Caesar. Its central figure is the noble but misguided patriot 
Brutus. 

Hamlet. 

One of the most thoughtful and poetical of dramas, centering 
around the story of a son called to avenge a murdered father. 

Othello. 
The tragedy of a noble but passionate man who becomes the 
dupe of a villain, and through mistaken jealousy murders his 
innocent bride. 

King Lear. 

The tragedy of ingratitude. King Lear gives all his lands to 
his two eldest daughters, but their cruelty leads to his death 
and that of his one faithful child Cordelia. 

Macbeth. 

A terrible picture of the retribution which follows ambition 
and murder. Macbeth assassinates his predecessor to become 
king, but is overthrown and dies miserably in the hour of 
defeat. 

Antony and Cleopatra. 

The tragedy of a great soldier who sacrifices an empire for 
love of a fascinating but wicked woman. 

Timon of Athens. 

The tragedy of a noble Athenian who ruins himself by un- 
wise generosity. 

Coriolanus. 

The tragedy of a noble Roman whose brave but unreasonably 
haughty spirit makes him the enemy and desolator of his 
country. 

IV. ROMANTIC TALES OF SHAKESPEARE'S LATER 

YEARS 

Pericles. 

The adventures of a family who are long separated and final- 
ly united. 



Descriptive Bibliography xxix 

Cymbeline. 

A Winter's Tale. 

Two stories of mistaken jealousy, with frequent threats of 
disaster but with a happy ending. Cymbeline is a story of 
ancient Britain; the scene of the Winter's Tale is laid in Sic- 
ily and Bohemia. 

The Tempest. 
The story of an exiled duke on an enchanted island. Here he 
brings his enemies within his power and is restored to his 
dukedom. 

King Henry VIII. 

A series of picturesque events in the life of King Henry and 
Cardinal Wolsey. 

Shakespeare's non-dramatic works include: 

Venus and Adonis (1593). 

The Rape of Lucrece (1594). 

Sonnets (1609). 

The Passionate Pilgrim (1599). 
A collection of short poems, containing a few by Shakespeare. 




YARD 



Interior of Fortune Theater 



AS YOU LIKE IT 



DRAMATIS PERSONS 



Duke, living in banishment. 

Frederick, his brother, and usurper of his dominions. 

T ' > lords attending on the banished duke. 

Jaojjes, J & 

Le Beau, a courtier attending upon Frederick. 

Charles, wrestler to Frederick. 

Oliver, 

Jaques, |- sons of Sir Rowland de Boys. 

Orlando, J 

Adam, ) ~ , . 

t^ > servants to Oliver. 

Dennis, J 

Touchstone, a clown. 

Sir Oliver Martext, a vicar. 



CORIN, 7 7, 

„ } shepherds. 

blLVIUS, J r 



William, a country fellow, in love with Audrey. 
A person representing Hymen. 

Rosalind, daughter to the banished duke. 
Celia, daughter to Frederick. 
Phebe, a shepherdess. 
Audrey, a country wench. 

Lords, pages, and attendants, etc. 

Scene: Oliver's house; Duke Frederick's court; and the Forest of Arden, 



As You Like It. 

ACT FIRST 

Scene I 

Orchard of Oliver's house. 

Enter Orlando and Adam. 

Orl. As I remember, Adam, it was upon this fashion : 
bequeathed me by will but poor a thousand 
crowns, and, as thou sayest, charged my brother, 
on his blessing, to breed me well: and there be- 
gins my sadness. My brother Jaques he keeps 
at school, and report speaks goldenly of his 
profit: for my part, he keeps me rustically at 
home, or, to speak more properly, stays me here 
at home unkept; for call you that keeping for a 
gentleman of my birth, that differs not from the 10 
stalling of an ox? His horses are bred better; 
for besides that they are fair with their feeding, 
they are taught their manage, and to that end 
riders dearly hired: but I, his brother, gain 
nothing under him but growth; for the which 
his animals on his dunghills are as much bound 
to him as I. Besides this nothing that he so 

3 



4 As You Like It [Act i. 

plentifully gives me, the something that nature 
gave me his countenance seems to take from me : 
he lets me feed with his hinds, bars me the place 20 
of a brother, and, as much as in him lies, mines 
my gentility with my education. This is it, 
Adam, that grieves me; and the spirit of my 
father, which I think is within me, begins to 
mutiny against this servitude: I will no longer 
endure it, though yet I know no wise remedy 
how to avoid it. 

Adam. Yonder comes my master your brother. 

Orl. Go apart, Adam, and thou shalt hear how he 

will shake me up. 30 

Enter Oliver. 

OIL Now, sir! what make you here? 

Orl. Nothing: I am not taught to make any 

thing. 
OIL What mar you then, sir? 
Orl. Marry, sir, I am helping you to mar that which 

God made, a poor unworthy brother of yours, 

with idleness. 
OIL Marry, sir, be better employed, and be naught 

awhile. 
Orl. Shall I keep your hogs and eat husks with 40 

them? What prodigal portion have I spent, 

that I should come to such penury? 
OIL Know you where you are, sir? 
Orl. O, sir, very well : here in your orchard. 



Scene I.] As You Like It 5 

OIL Know you before whom, sir? 

Orl. Ay, better than him I am before knows me. I 
know you are my eldest brother; and, in the 
gentle condition of blood, you should so know 
me. The courtesy of nations allows you my 
better, in that you are the first-born; but the 50 
same tradition takes not away my blood, were 
there twenty brothers betwixt us : I have as much 
of my father in me as you ; albeit, I confess, your 
coming before me is nearer to his reverence. 

OIL What, boy! 

Orl. Come, come, elder brother, you are too young 
in this. 

OIL Wilt thou lay hands on me, villain? 

Orl. I am no villain; I am the youngest son of Sir 

Rowland de Boys; he was my father, and he is 60 
thrice a villain that says such a father begot 
villains. Wert thou not my brother, I would 
not take this hand from thy throat till this 
other had pulled out thy tongue for saying so; 
thou hast railed on thyself. 

Adam. Sweet masters, be patient: for your father's 
remembrance, be at accord. 

OIL Let me go, I say. 

Orl. I will not, till I please : you shall hear me. 

My father charged you in his will to give me 70 
good education; you have trained me like a 
peasant, obscuring and hiding from me all 
gentleman-like qualities. The spirit of my 
father grows strong in me, and I will no 



6 As You Like It [act i. 

longer endure it: therefore allow me such 
exercises as may become a gentleman, or give 
me the poor allottery my father left me by testa- 
ment; with that I will go buy my fortunes. 

Oli. And what wilt thou do? beg, when that is 

spent ? Well, sir, get you in : I will not long be 80 
troubled with you; you shall have some part of 
your will : I pray you, leave me. 

Orl. I will no further offend you than becomes me 
for my good. 

Oli. Get you with him, you old dog. 

Adam. Is "old dog" my reward? Most true, I 
have lost my teeth in your service. God be with 
my old master! he would not have spoke such 
a word. 

[Exeunt Orlando and Adam. 

Oli. Is it even so? begin you to grow upon me? 90 
I will physic your rankness, and yet give no 
thousand crowns neither. Holla, Dennis! 

Enter Dennis. 

Den. Calls your worship? 

Oli. Was not Charles, the Duke's wrestler, here to 
speak with me? 

Den. So please you, he is here at the door and im- 
portunes access to you. 

Oli. Call him in. [Exit Dennis.] 'Twill be a 
good way; and to-morrow the wrestling is. 



Scene I.] As YOU Like It 7 

Enter Charles. 

Cha. Good morrow to your worship. ioo 

Oli. Good Monsieur Charles, what's the new news 
at the new court? 

Cha. There's no news at the court, sir, but the old 
news: that is, the old Duke is banished by his 
younger brother the new Duke; and three or 
four loving lords have put themselves into vol- 
untary exile with him, whose lands and revenues 
enrich the new Duke; therefore he gives them 
good leave to wander. 

Oli. Can you tell if Rosalind, the Duke's daughter, no 
be banished with her father? 

Cha. O, ho; for the Duke's daughter, her cousin, 
so loves her, being ever from their cradles bred 
together, that she would have followed her exile, 
or have died to stay behind her. She is at the 
court, and no less beloved of her uncle than his 
own daughter; and never two ladies loved as 
they do. 

Oli. Where will the old Duke live? 

Cha. They say he is already in the forest of Arden, 120 
and a many merry men with him ; and there they 
live like the old Robin Hood of England; they 
say many young gentlemen flock to him every 
day, and fleet the time carelessly, as they did in 
the golden world. 

Oli. What, you wrestle to-morrow before the new 
Duke? 



8 As You Like It [act i. 

Cha. Marry, do I, sir; and I came to acquaint you 
with a matter. I am given, sir, secretly to under- 
stand that your younger brother Orlando hath a 130 
disposition to come in disguised against me to 
try a fall. To-morrow, sir, I wrestle for my 
credit; and he that escapes me without some 
broken limb shall acquit him well. Your 
brother is but young and tender; and, for your 
love, I would be loath to foil him, as I must, 
for my own honor, if he come in: therefore, out 
of my love to you, I came hither to acquaint 
you withal, that either you might stay him from 
his intendment or brook such disgrace well as he 140 
shall run into, in that it is a thing of his own 
search and altogether against my will. 

Oli. Charles, I thank thee for thy love to me, 
which thou shalt find I will most kindly requite. 
I had myself notice of my brother's purpose 
herein, and have by underhand means labored 
to dissuade him from it; but he is resolute. I'll 
tell thee, Charles: it is the stubbornest young 
fellow of France, full of ambition, an envious 
emulator of every man's good parts, a secret 150 
and villanous contriver against me his natural 
brother: therefore use thy discretion; I had as 
lief thou didst break his neck as his finger. And 
thou wert best look to 't; for if thou dost him 
any slight disgrace or if he do not mightily grace 
himself on thee, he will practise against thee by 
poison, entrap thee by some treacherous device 



Scene I.J As You Like It 9 

and never leave thee till he hath ta'en thy life by 
some indirect means or other ; for, I assure thee, 
and almost with tears I speak it, there is not one 160 
so young and so villanous this day living. I 
speak but brotherly of him; but should I anato- 
mize him to thee as he is, I must blush and weep 
and thou must look pale and wonder. 

Cha. I am heartily glad I came hither to you. If 
he come to-morrow, I'll give him his payment. 
If ever he go alone again, I'll never wrestle for 
prize more: and so God keep your worship! 

OIL Farewell, good Charles. [Exit Charles.} Now 

will I stir this gamester: I hope I shall see an 170 
end of him ; for my soul, yet I know not why, 
hates nothing more than he. Yet he's gentle, 
never schooled and yet learned, full of noble 
device, of all sorts enchantingly beloved, and 
indeed so much in the heart of the world, and 
especially of my own people, who best know 
him, that I am altogether misprised : but it shall 
not be so long; this wrestler shall clear all: 
nothing remains but that I kindle the boy 
thither; which now I'll go about. [Exit. 180 



io As You Like It [act i. 

Scene II 
Lawn before the Duke's palace. 
Enter Celia and Rosalind. 

Cel. I pray thee, Rosalind, sweet my coz, be 
merry. 

Ros. Dear Celia, I show more mirth than I am mis- 
tress of; and would you yet I were merrier? 
Unless you could teach me to forget a banished 
father, you must not learn me how to remember 
any extraordinary pleasure. 

Cel. Herein I see thou lovest me not with the full 
weight that I love thee. If my uncle, thy ban- 
ished father, had banished thy uncle, the Duke IO 
my father, so thou hadst been still with me, I 
could have taught my love to take thy father for 
mine: so wouldst thou, if the truth of thy love 
to me were so righteously tempered as mine is 
to thee. 

Ros. Well, I will forget the condition of my estate, 
to rejoice in yours. 

Cel. You know my father hath no child but I, nor 
none is like to have: and, truly, when he dies, 
thou shalt be his heir; for what he hath taken 20 
away from thy father perforce, I will render 
thee again in affection; by mine honor, I will; 
and when I break that oath, let me turn monster. 



scene iij As You Like It II 

Therefore, my sweet Rose, my dear Rose, be 

merry. 
Ros. From henceforth I will, coz, and devise 

sports. Let me see; what think you of falling 

in love? 
Cel. Marry, I prithee, do, to make sport withal: 

but love no man in good earnest ; nor no further 30 

in sport neither, than with safety of a pure 

blush thou mayst in honor come off again. 
Ros. What shall be our sport, then ? 
Cel. Let us sit and mock the good housewife Fortune 

from her wheel, that her gifts may henceforth be 

bestowed equally. 
Ros. I would we could do so, for her benefits are 

mightily misplaced; and the bountiful blind 

woman doth most mistake in her gifts to women. 
Cel. 'Tis true; for those that she makes fair she 40 

scarce makes honest, and those that she makes 

honest she makes very ill-favoredly. 
Ros. Nay, now thou goest from Fortune's office to 

Nature's: Fortune reigns in gifts of the world, 

not in the lineaments of Nature. 

Enter Touchstone. 

Cel. No? when Nature hath made a fair creature, 
may she not by Fortune fall into the fire? 
Though Nature hath given us wit to flout at 
Fortune, hath not Fortune sent in this fool to 
cut off the argument? 50 



12 As You Like It [act i 

Ros. Indeed, there is Fortune too hard for Nature, 
when Fortune makes Nature's natural the 
cutter-off of Nature's wit. 

Cel. Peradventure this is not Fortune's work neither, 
but Nature's; who perceiveth our natural wits 
too dull to reason of such goddesses and hath sent 
this natural for our whetstone; for always the 
dulness of the fool is the whetstone of the wits. 
How now, wit! whither wander you? 

Touch. Mistress, you must come away to your 60 
father. 

Cel. Were you made the messenger? 

Touch. No, by mine honor; but I was bid to come 
for you. 

Ros. Where learned you that oath, fool? 

Touch. Of a certain knight that swore by his honor 
they were good pancakes, and swore by his 
honor the mustard was naught; now I'll stand 
to it, the pancakes were naught and the mustard 
was good, and yet was not the knight 70 
forsworn. 

Cel. How prove you that, in the great heap of your 
knowledge ? 

Ros. Ay, marry, now unmuzzle your wisdom. 

Touch. Stand you both forth now: stroke your chins, 
and swear by your beards 'that I am a 
knave. 

Cel. By our beards, if we had them, thou 
art. 

Touch. By my knavery, if I had it, then I were; 80 



Scene II.] As You Like It 1 3 

but if you swear by that that is not, you are not 
forsworn: no more was this knight, swearing 
by his honor, for he never had any; or if he had, 
he had sworn it away before ever he saw those 
pancakes or that mustard. 

Cel. Prithee, who is 't that thou meanest? 

Touch. One that old Frederick, your father, 
loves. 

Cel. My father's love is enough to honor him: 

enough! speak no more of him; you'll be 90 
whipped for taxation one of these days. 

Touch. The more pity, that fools may not speak 
wisely what wise men do foolishly. 

Cel. By my troth, thou sayest true; for since the 
little wit that fools have was silenced, the little 
foolery that wise men have makes a great show. 
Here comes Monsieur Le Beau. 

Ros. With his mouth full of news. 

Cel. Which he will put on us, as pigeons feed their 

young. 100 

Ros. Then shall we be news-crammed. 

Cel. All the better; we shall be the more 
marketable. 

Enter Le Beau. 

Bon jour, Monsieur Le Beau : what's the news ? 
Le Beau. Fair princess, you have lost much good 

sport. 
Cel. Sport ! of what color ? 



14 As You Like It [act i. 

Le Beau. What color, madam! how shall I answer 

you? 
Ros. As wit and fortune will. no 

Touch. Or as the Destinies decree. 
Cel. Well said : that was laid on with a trowel. 
Touch. Nay, if I keep not my rank, — 
Ros. Thou losest thy old smell. 
Le Beau. You amaze me, ladies: I would have told 

you of good wrestling, which you have lost the 

sight of. 
Ros. Yet tell us the manner of the wrestling. 
Le Beau. I will tell you the beginning; and, if it 

please your ladyships, you may see the end; for 120 

the best is yet to do; and here, where you are, 

they are coming to perform it. 
Cel. Well, the beginning, that is dead and 

buried. 
Le Beau. There comes an old man and his three 

sons, — 
Cel. I could match this beginning with an old 

tale. 
Le Beau. Three proper young men, of excellent 

growth and presence. 130 

Ros. With bills on their necks, " Be it known unto 

all men by these presents." 
Le Beau. The eldest of the three wrestled with 

Charles, the Duke's wrestler; which Charles in 

a moment threw him and broke three of his ribs, 

that there is little hope of life in him: so he 

served the second, and so the third. Yonder they 



scene ii.j As You Like It 15 

lie; the poor old man, their father, making such 
pitiful dole over them that all the beholders 
take his part with weeping. 140 

Ros. Alas! 

Touch. But what is the sport, monsieur, that the 
ladies have lost? 

Le Beau. Why, this that I speak of. 

Touch. Thus men may grow wiser every day: it is 
the first time that ever I heard breaking of ribs 
was sport for ladies. 

Cel. Or I, I promise thee. 

Ros. But is there any else longs to see this broken 

music in his sides? is there yet another dotes 150 
upon rib-breaking? Shall we see this wrestling, 
cousin ? 

Le Beau. You must, if you stay here ; for here is the 
place appointed for the wrestling, and they are 
ready to perform it. 

Cel. Yonder, sure, they are coming: let us now stay 
and see it. 

Flourish. Enter Duke Frederick, Lords, Orlando, 
Charles and Attendants. 

Duke F. Come on: since the youth will not be en- 
treated, his own peril on his forwardness. 

Ros. Is yonder the man? 1 60 

Le Beau. Even he, madam. 

Cel. Alas, he is too young! yet he looks successfully. 

Duke F. How now, daughter and cousin! are you 
crept hither to see the wrestling? 

Ros. Ay, my liege, so please you give us leave. 



1 6 As You Like It [Act i. 

Duke F. You will take little delight in it, I can tell 
you; there is such odds in the man. In pity of 
the challenger's youth I would fain dissuade him, 170 
but he will not be entreated. Speak to him, 
ladies; see if you can move him. 

Cel. Call him hither, good Monsieur Le Beau. 

Duke F. Do so: I'll not be by. 

Le Beau. Monsieur the challenger, the princess calls 
for you. 

Orl. I attend them with all respect arid duty. 

Ros. Young man, have you challenged Charles the 
wrestler ? 

Orl. No, fair princess; he is the general chal- 180 
lenger: I come but in, as others do, to try with 
him the strength of my youth. 

Cel. Young gentleman, your spirits are too bold 
for your years. You have seen cruel proof of 
this man's strength: if you saw yourself with 
your eyes, or knew yourself with your judgment, 
the fear of your adventure would counsel you 
to a more equal enterprise. We pray you, for 
your own sake, to embrace your own safety and 
give over this attempt. „ 190 

Ros. Do, young sir; your reputation shall not there- 
fore be misprised: we will make it our suit to 
the Duke that the wrestling might not go for- 
ward. 

Orl. I beseech you, punish me not with your hard 
thoughts; wherein I confess me much guilty, 
to deny so fair and excellent ladies any thing. 



scene ii. j As You Like It 17 

But let your fair eyes and gentle wishes go with 
me to my trial: wherein if I be foiled, there is 
but one shamed that was never gracious; if 200 
killed, but one dead that is willing to be so: I 
shall do my friends no wrong, for I have none to 
lament me; the world no injury, for in it I have 
nothing ; only in the world I fill up a place, which 
may be better supplied when I have made it empty. 

Ros. The little strength that I have, I would it 
were with you. 

Cel. And mine, to eke out hers. 

Ros. Fare you well: pray heaven I be deceived in 

you! 210 

Cel. Your heart's desires be with you! 

Cha. Come, where is this young gallant that is so 
desirous to lie with his mother earth? 

Orl. Ready, sir; but his will hath in it a more 
modest working. 

Duke F. You shall try but one fall. 

Cha. No, I warrant your grace, you shall not en- 
treat him to a second, that have so mightily per- 
suaded him from a first. 

Orl. An you mean to mock me after, you should not 220 
have mocked me before: but come your ways. ^ 

Ros. Now Hercules be thy speed, j^oung man! 

Cel. I would I were invisible, to catch the strong 

fellow by the leg. [They wrestle. 

Ros. O excellent young man! 

Cel. If I had a thunderbolt in mine eye, I can tell 

who should down. [Shout. Charles is thrown. 



1 8 As You Like It [Acti. 

Duke F. No more, no more. 

Orl. Yes, I beseech your grace: I am not yet well 

breathed. 230 

Duke F. How dost thou, Charles? 

Le Beau. He cannot speak, my lord. 

Duke F. Bear him away. What is thy name, young 
man? 

Orl. Orlando, my liege: the youngest son of Sir 
Rowland de Boys. 

Duke F. I would thou hadst been son to some man 
else ; 
The world esteemed thy father honorable, 
But I did find him still mine enemy : 
Thou shouldst have better pleased me with this deed, 
Hadst thou descended from another house. 240 
But fare thee well; thou art a gallant youth: 
I would thou hadst told me of another father. 

[Exeunt Duke Fred., train, and Le Beau. 

Cel. Were I my father, coz, would I do this? 

Orl. I am more proud to be Sir Rowland's son, 

His youngest son ; and would not change that calling, 
To be adopted heir to Frederick. 

Ros. My father loved Sir Rowland as his soul, 
And all the world was of my father's mind: 
Had I before known this young man his son, 
I should have given him tears unto entreaties, 250 
Ere he should thus have ventured. 

Cel. Gentle cousin, 

Let us go thank him and encourage him: 
My father's rough and envious disposition 



scene il] As You Like It 19 

Sticks me at heart. Sir, you have well deserved : 

If you do keep your promises in love 

But justly, as you have exceeded all promise, 

Your mistress shall be happy. 
Ros. Gentleman, 

[Giving him a chain from her neck. 

Wear this for me, one out of suits with fortune, 

That could give more, but that her hand lacks means. 

Shall we go, coz? 
CeL Ay. Fare you well, fair gentleman. 260 

Orl. Can I not say, I thank you? My better parts 

Are all thrown down, and that which here stands up 

Is but a quintain, a mere lifeless block. 
Ros. He calls us back: my pride fell with my fortunes: 

I'll ask him what he would. Did you call, sir? 

Sir, you have wrestled well and overthrown 

More than your enemies. 
Cel. Will you go, coz? 

Ros. Have with you. Fare you well. 

[Exeunt Rosalind and Celia. 
Orl. What passion hangs these weights upon my tongue? 

I cannot speak to her, yet she urged conference. 270 

O poor Orlando, thou art overthrown! 

Or Charles or something weaker masters thee. 

Re-enter Le Beau. 

he Beau. Good sir, I do in friendship counsel you 
To leave this place. Albeit you have deserved 
High commendation, true applause and love, 



20 As You Like It iact i. 

Yet such is now the Duke's condition 
That he misconstrues all that you have done. 
The Duke is humorous: what he is indeed, 
More suits you to conceive than I to speak of. 

Orl. I thank you, sir: and, pray you, tell me this; 280 
Which of the two was daughter of the Duke 
That here was at the wrestling? 

Le Beau. Neither his daughter, if we judge by manners; 
But yet indeed the lesser is his daughter: 
The other is daughter to the banished Duke, 
And here detained by her usurping uncle, 
To keep his daughter company; whose loves 
Are dearer than the natural bond of sisters. 
But I can tell you that of late this Duke 
Hath ta'en displeasure 'gainst his gentle niece, 290 
Grounded upon no other argument 
But that the people praise her for her virtues 
And pity her for her good father's sake; 
And, on my life, his malice 'gainst the lady 
Will suddenly break forth. Sir, fare you well: 
Hereafter, in a better world than this, 
I shall desire more love and knowledge of you. 

Orl. I rest much bounden to you : fare you well. 

[Exit Le Beau. 
Thus must I from the smoke into the smother; 
From tyrant duke unto a tyrant brother: 300 

But heavenly Rosalind! [Exit. 



Scene III.] As You Like It 21 

Scene III 
A room in the palace. 
Enter Celia and Rosalind. 

Cel. Why, cousin! why, Rosalind! Cupid have 

mercy! not a word? 
Ros.. Not one to throw at a dog. 
Cel. No,. thy words are too precious to be cast away 

upon curs; throw some of them at me; come, 

lame me with reasons. 
Ros. Then there were two cousins laid up; when 

the one should be lamed with reasons and the 

other mad without any. 
Cel. But is all this for your father? 10 

Ros. No, some of it is for my father's child. O, how 

full of briers is this working-day world! 
Cel. They are but burs, cousin, thrown upon thee 

in holiday foolery : if we walk not in the trodden 

paths, our very petticoats will catch them. 
Ros. I could shake them off my coat: these burs 

are in my heart. 
Cel. Hem them away. 
Ros. I would try, if I could cry " hem " and have 

him. 20 

Cel. Come, come, wrestle with thy affections. 
Ros. O, they take the part of a better wrestler than 

myself ! 



22 As You Like It [Act i. 

Cel. O, a good wish upon you! You will try in 
time, in despite of a fall. But, turning these 
jests out of service, let us talk in good earnest: 
is it possible, on such a sudden, you should fall 
into so strong a liking with old Sir Rowland's 
youngest son? 

Ros. The Duke my father loved his father 30 
dearly. 

Cel. Doth it therefore ensue that you should love 
his son dearly? By this kind of chase, I should 
hate him, for my father hated his father dearly; 
yet I hate not Orlando. 

Ros. No, faith, hate him not, for my sake. 

Cel. Why should I not? doth he not deserve 
well? 

Ros. Let me love him for that, and do you love 

him because I do. Look, here comes the 40 
Duke. 

Cel. With his eyes full of anger. 

Enter Duke Frederick, with Lords. 

Duke F. Mistress, dispatch you with your safest haste 

And get you from our court. 
Ros. Me, uncle? 

Duke F. You, cousin; 

Within these ten days if that thou be'st found 

So near our public court as twenty miles, 

Thou diest for it. 
Ros. I do beseech your grace, 



Scene III.] As You Like It 2$ 

Let me the knowledge of my fault bear with me: 

If with myself I hold intelligence 

Or have acquaintance with mine own desires, 50 

If that I do not dream or be not frantic, — 

As I do trust I am not — then, dear uncle, 

Never so much as in a thought unborn 

Did I offend your highness. 

Duke F. Thus do all traitors; 

If their purgation did consist in words, 
They are as innocent as grace itself: 
Let it suffice thee that I trust thee not. 

Ros, Yet your mistrust cannot make me a traitor: 
Tell me whereon the likelihood depends. 

Duke F. Thou art thy father's daughter: there's 
enough. 60 

Ros. So was I when your highness took his dukedom; 
So was I when your highness banished him: 
Treason is not inherited, my lord ; 
Or, if we did derive it from our friends, 
What's that to me ? my father was no traitor : 
Then, good my liege, mistake me not so much 
To think my poverty is treacherous. 

Cel. Dear sovereign, hear me speak. 

Duke F. Ay, Celia; we stayed her for your sake, 

Else had she with her father ranged along. 70 

Cel. I did not then entreat to have her stay; 
It was your pleasure and your own remorse : 
I was too young that time to value her; 
But now I know her: if she be a traitor, 
Why so am I ; we still have slept together, 



24 As You Like It [act i. 

Rose at an instant, learned, played, eat together, 

And wheresoe'er we went, like Juno's swans, 

Still we went coupled and inseparable. 
Duke F. She is too subtle for thee; and her smoothness, 

Her very silence and her patience 80 

Speak to the people, and they pity her. 

Thou art a fool: she robs thee of thy name; 

And thou wilt show more bright and seem more 
virtuous 

When she is gone. Then open not thy lips : 

Firm and irrevocable is my doom 

Which I have passed upon her ; she is banished. 
Cel. Pronounce that sentence then on me, my liege: 

I cannot live out of her company. 
Duke F. You are a fool. You, niece, provide yourself: 

If you outstay the time, upon mine honor, 90 

And in the greatness of my word, you die. 

[Exeunt Duke Frederick and Lords. 
Cel. O my poor Rosalind, whither wilt thou go? 

Wilt thou change fathers? I will give thee mine. 

I charge thee, be not thou more grieved than I am. 
Ros. I have more cause. 
Cel. Thou hast not, cousin; 

Prithee, be cheerful: know'st thou not, the Duke 

Hath banished me, his daughter? 
Ros. That he hath not. 

Cel. No! hath not? Rosalind lacks then the love 

Which teacheth thee that thou and I am one: 

Shall we be sundered? shall we part, sweet girl? 100 
' No : let my father seek another heir. 



scene in.] As You Like It 25 

Therefore devise with me how we may fly, 
Whither to go and what to bear with us ; 
And do not seek to take your change upon you, 
To bear your griefs yourself and leave me out; 
For, by this heaven, now at our sorrows pale, 
Say what thou canst, I'll go along with thee. 

Ros. Why, whither shall we go? 

Gel. To seek my uncle in the forest of Arden. 

Ros. Alas, what danger will it be to us, no 

Maids as we are, to travel forth so far ! 
Beauty provoketh thieves sooner than gold. 

Gel. I'll put myself in poor and mean attire 
And with a kind of umber smirch my face ; 
The like do you; so shall we pass along 
And never stir assailants. 

Ros. Were it not better. 

Because that I am more than common tall, 
That I did suit me all points like a man ? 
A gallant curtle-axe upon my thigh, 
A boar-spear in my hand ; and — in my heart 1 20 
Lie there what hidden woman's fear there will — 
We'll have a swashing and a martial outside, 
As many other mannish cowards have 
That do outface it with their semblances. 

Cel. What shall I call thee when thou art a man ? 

Ros. I'll have no worse a name than Jove's own page ; 
And therefore look you call me Ganymede. 
But what will you be called? 

Gel. Something that hath a reference to my state; 

No longer Celia, but Aliena. 130 



26 As You Like It [act ii. 

Ros. But, cousin, what if we assayed to steal 

The clownish fool out of your father's court? 
Would he not be a comfort to our travel ? 

Cel. He'll go along o'er the wide world with me; 
Leave me alone to woo him. Let's away, 
And get our jewels and our wealth together, 
Devise the fittest time and safest way 
To hide us from pursuit that will be made 
After my flight. Now go we in content 
To liberty and not to banishment. [Exeunt. 140 



ACT SECOND 

Scene I 

The forest of Arden. 

Enter Duke senior, Amiens and two or three Lords, 

like foresters. 

Duke S. Now, my co-mates and brothers in exile, 
Hath not old custom made this life more sweet 
Than that of painted pomp ? Are not these woods 
More free from peril than the envious court? 
Here feel we but the penalty of Adam, 
The seasons' difference, as the icy fang 
And churlish chiding of the winter's wind, 
Which, when it bites and blows upon my body, 



scene i j As You Like It 27 

Even till I shrink with cold, I smile and say 

This is no flattery: these are counsellors 10 

That feelingly persuade me what I am. 

Sweet are the uses of adversity, 

Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous, 

Wears yet a precious jewel in his head; 

And this our life exempt from public haunt 

Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, 

Sermons in stones and good in every thing. 

I would not change it. 

Ami. Happy is your grace, 

That can translate the stubbornness of fortune 
Into so quiet and so sweet a style. 20 

Duke S. Come, shall we go and kill us venison? 
And yet it irks me the poor dappled fools, 
Being native burghers of this desert city, 
Should in their own confines with forked heads 
Have their round haunches gored. 

First Lord. Indeed, my lord, 

The melancholy Jaques grieves at that, 
And, in that kind, swears you do more usurp 
Than doth your brother that hath banished you. 
To-day my Lord of Amiens and myself 
Did steal behind him as he lay along 30 

Under an oak whose antique root peeps out 
Upon the brook that brawls along this wood: 
To the which place a poor sequestered stag, 
That from the hunter's aim had ta'en a hurt, 
Did come to languish; and indeed, my lord, 
The wretched animal heaved forth such groans 



28 As You Like It [act ii. 

That their discharge did stretch his leathern coat 

Almost to bursting, and the big round tears 

Coursed one another down his innocent nose 

In piteous chase; and thus the hairy fool, 40 

Much marked of the melancholy Jaques, 

Stood on the extremest verge of the swift brook, 

Augmenting it with tears. 

Duke S. But what said Jaques? 

Did he not moralize this spectacle? 

First Lord. O, yes, into a thousand similes. 

First, for his weeping into the needless stream ; 
" Poor deer," quoth he, " thou mak'st a testament 
As worldlings do, giving thy sum of more 
To that which had too much:" then, being there 

alone, 
Left and abandoned of his velvet friends, 50 

" 'Tis right, " quoth he; " thus misery doth part 
The flux of company: " anon a careless herd, 
Full of the pasture, jumps along by him 
And never stays to greet him ; " Ay," quoth Jaques, 
" Sweep on, you fat and greasy citizens ; 
'Tis just the fashion: wherefore do you look 
Upon that poor and broken bankrupt there? " 
Thus most invectively he pierceth through 
The body of the country, city, court, 
Yea, and of this our life, swearing that we 60 

Are mere usurpers, tyrants and what's worse, 
To fright the animals and to kill them up 
In their assigned and native dwelling-place. 

Duke S. And did you leave him in this contemplation? 



Scene II.] As You Like It 29 

Sec. Lord. We did, my lord, weeping and commenting 

Upon the sobbing deer. 
Duke S. Show me the place: 

I love to cope him in these sullen fits, 

For then he's full of matter. 
First Lord. I'll bring you to him straight. [Exeunt. 



Scene II 

A room in the palace. 

Enter Duke Frederick, with Lords. 

Duke F. Can it be possible that no man saw them? 
It cannot be: some villains of my court 
Are of consent and sufferance in this. 

First Lord. I cannot hear of any that did see her. 
The ladies, her attendants of her chamber, 
Saw her a-bed, and in the morning early 
They found the bed untreasured of their mistress. 

Sec. Lord. My lord, the roynish clown, at whom so oft 
Your grace was wont to laugh, is also missing. 
Hisperia, the princess' gentlewoman, 10 

Confesses that she secretly o'erheard 
Your daughter and her cousin much commend 
The parts and graces of the wrestler 
That did but lately foil the sinewy Charles; 
And she believes, wherever they are gone, 
That youth is surely in their company. 



30 As You Like It [act ii. 

Duke F. Send to his brother; fetch that gallant hither; 
If he be absent, bring his brother to me; 
I'll make him find him: do this suddenly, 
And let not search and inquisition quail 20 

To bring again these foolish runaways. [Exeunt. 



Scene III 

Before Oliver s house. 

Enter Orlando and Adam, meeting. 

OrL Who's there? 

Adam. What, my young master? O my gentle master! 

O my sweet master! O you memory 

Of old Sir Rowland ! why, what make you here ? 

Why are you virtuous? why do people love you? 

And wherefore are you gentle, strong and valiant? 

Why would you be so fond to overcome 

The bonny priser of the humorous Duke? 

Your praise is come too swiftly home before you. 

Know you not, master, to some kind of men 10 

Their graces serve them but as enemies? 

No more do yours: your virtues, gentle master, 

Are sanctified and holy traitors to you. 

O, what a world is this, when what is comely 

Envenoms him that bears it! 
Orl. Why, what's the matter? 
Adam. O unhappy youth! 

Come not within these doors; within this roof 



Scene III] As YoU Like It 3 1 

The enemy of all your graces lives: 

Your brother — no, no brother; yet the son — 

Yet not the son, I will not call him son 20 

Of him I was about to call his father — 

Hath heard your praises, and this night he means 

To burn the lodging where you use to lie 

And you within it : if he fail of that, 

He will have other means to cut you off. 

I overheard him and his practices: 

This is no place ; this house is but a butchery : 

Abhor it, fear it, do not enter it. 

Orl. Why, whither, Adam, wouldst thou have me go? 

Adam. No matter whither, so you come not here. 30 

Orl. What, wouldst thou have me go and beg my food? 
Or with a base and boisterous sword enforce 
A thievish living on the common road? 
This I must do, or know not what to do : 
Yet this I will not do, do how I can ; 
I rather will subject me to the malice 
Of a diverted blood and bloody brother. 

Adam. But do not so. I have five hundred crowns, 
The thrifty hire I saved under your father, 
Which I did store to be my foster nurse 40 

Wlien service should in my old limbs lie lame, 
And unregarded age in corners thrown : 
Take that, and He that doth the ravens feed, 
Yea, providently caters for the sparrow, 
Be comfort to my age ! Here is the gold ; 
All this I give you. Let me be your servant: 
Though I look old, yet I am strong and lusty; 



32 As You Like It [Act ii. 

For in my youth I never did apply 

Hot and rebellious liquors in my blood, 

Nor did not with unbashful forehead woo 50 

The means of weakness and debility; 

Therefore my age is as a lusty winter, 

Frosty, but kindly; let me go with you; 

I'll do the service of a younger man 

In all your business and necessities. 

Orl. O good old man, how well in thee appears 
The constant service of the antique world, 
When service sweat for duty, not for meed! 
Thou art not for the fashion of these times, 
Where none will sweat but for promotion 60 

And having that, do choke their service up 
Even with the having: it is not so with thee. 
But, poor old man, thou prun'st a rotten tree, 
That cannot so much as a blossom yield 
In lieu of all thy pains and husbandry. 
But come thy ways; we'll go along together; 
And ere we have thy youthful wages spent, 
We'll light upon some settled low content. 

Adam. Master, go on, and I will follow thee, 

To the last gasp, with truth and loyalty. 7° 

From seventeen years till now almost fourscore 
Here lived I, but now live here no more. 
At seventeen years many their fortunes seek; 
But at fourscore it is too late a week: 
Yet fortune cannot recompense me better 
Than to die well and not my master's debtor. 

[Exeunt. 



Scene IV.] As You Like It $$ 



Scene IV 

The forest of Arden. 

Enter Rosalind as Ganymede, Celia as Aliena, and 

Touchstone. 

Ros. O Jupiter, how weary are my spirits! 
Touch. I care not for my spirits, if my legs were not 

weary. 
Ros. I could find in my heart to disgrace my man's 

apparel and to cry like a woman; but I must 

comfort the weaker vessel, as doublet and hose 

ought to show itself courageous to petticoat: 

therefore courage, good Aliena! 
Cel. I pray you, bear with me; I cannot go no 

further. 10 

Touch. For my part, I had rather bear with you 

than bear you ; yet I should bear no cross if I dial 

bear you, for I think you have no money in your 

purse. 
Ros. Well, this is the forest of Arden. 
Touch. Ay, now am I in Arden ; the more fool I ; 

when I was at home, I was in a better place : but 

travelers must be content. 
Ros. Ay, be so, good Touchstone. 



34 As You Like It [Act ii. 

Enter Corin and Silvius. 

Look you, who comes here ; a young man and an 20 
old in solemn talk. 

Cor. That is the way to make her scorn you still. 

Sil. O Corin, that thou knew'st how I do love her! 

Cor. I partly guess ; for I have loved ere now. 

Sil. No, Corin, being old, thou can'st not guess, 
Though in thy youth thou wast as true a lover 
As ever sighed upon a midnight pillow : 
But if thy love were ever like to mine — 
As sure I think did never man love so — 
How many actions most ridiculous 30 

Hast thou been drawn to by thy fantasy? 

Cor. Into a thousand that I have forgotten. 

Sil. O, thou didst then ne'er love so heartily! 
If thou rememberest not the slightest folly 
That ever love did make thee run into, 
Thou hast not loved: 
Or if thou hast not sat as I do now, 
Wearying thy hearer in thy mistress' praise, 
Thou hast not loved: 

Or if thou hast not broke from company 40 

Abruptly, as my passion now makes me, 
Thou hast not loved. 

Phebe, Phebe, Phebe! [Exit. 
Ros. Alas, poor shepherd! searching of thy wound, 

1 have by hard adventure found mine own. 
Touch. And I mine. I remember, when I was in 

love I broke my sword upon a stone and bid him 



scene iv] As You Like It 35 

take that for coming a-night to Jane Smile ; and 
I remember the kissing of her batler and the 
cow's dugs that her pretty chopt hands had 50 
milked ; and I remember the wooing of a peascod 
instead of her, from whom I took two cods and, 
giving her them again, said with weeping tears, 
" Wear these for my sake." We that are true 
lovers run into strange capers; but as all is 
mortal in nature, so is all nature in love mortal 
in folly. 

Ros. Thou speakest wiser than thou art ware of. 

Touch. Nay, I shall ne'er be ware of mine own wit 

till I break my shins against it. 60 

Ros. Jove, Jove! this shepherd's passion 
Is much upon my fashion. 

Touch. And mine; but it grows something stale with me. 

Cel. I pray you, one of you question yond man 
If he for gold will give us any food: 
I faint almost to death. 

Touch. Holla, you clown! 

Ros. Peace! fool: he's not thy kinsman. 

Cor. Who calls? 

Touch. Your betters, sir. 

Cor. Else are they very wretched. 

Ros. Peace, I say. Good even to you, friend. 

Cor. And to you, gentle sir, and to you all. 70 

Ros. I prithee, shepherd, if that love or gold 
Can in this desert place buy entertainment, 
Bring us where we may rest ourselves and feed : 



36 As You Like It iact u. 

Here's a young maid with travel much oppressed 
And faints for succor. 

Cor. Fair sir, I pity her 

And wish, for her sake more than for mine own, 

My fortunes were more able to relieve her; 

But I am shepherd to another man 

And do not shear the fleeces that I graze: 

My master is of churlish disposition 80 

And little recks to find the way to heaven 

By doing deeds of hospitality: 

Besides, his cote, his flocks and bounds of feed 

Are now on sale, and at our sheepcote now, 

By reason of his absence, there is nothing 

That you will feed on ; but what is, come see, 

And in my voice most welcome shall you be. 

Ros. What is he that shall buy his flock and pasture ? 

Cor. That young swain that you saw here but erewhile, 
That little cares for buying any thing. 90 

Ros. I pray thee, if it stand with honesty, 

Buy thou the cottage, pasture and the flock, 
And thou shalt have to pay for it of us. 

Cel. And we will mend thy wages. I like this place, 
And willingly could waste my time in it. 

Cor. Assuredly the thing is to be sold: 
Go with me : if you like upon report 
The soil, the profit, and this kind of life, 
I will your very faithful feeder be 
And buy it with your gold right suddenly. 100 

[Exeunt. 



scene v.] As You Like It 37 

Scene V 

The forest. 

Enter Amiens, Jaques, and others. 

Song. 

Ami. Under the greenwood tree 

Who loves to lie with me, 

And turn his merry note 

Unto the sweet bird's throat, 
Come hither, come hither, come hither: 

Here shall he see 

No enemy 
But winter and rough weather. 

Jaq. More, more, I prithee, more. 

Ami. It will make you melancholy, Monsieur 10 

Jaques. 
Jaq. I thank it. More, I prithee, more. I can 

suck melancholy out of a song, as a weasel sucks 

eggs. More, I prithee, more. 
Ami. My voice is ragged, I know I cannot please 

you. 
Jaq. I do not desire you to please me ; I do desire you 

to sing. Come, more; another stanzo: call 

you 'em stanzos? 
Ami. What you will, Monsieur Jaques. 20 

Jaq. Nay, I care not for their names; they owe 

me nothing. Will you sing? 



38 As You Like It [act ii. 

Ami. More at your request than to please 
myself. 

Jaq. Well then, if ever I thank any man, I'll thank 
you; but that they call compliment is like the 
encounter of two dog-apes, and when a man 
thanks me heartily, methinks I have given him 
a penny and he renders me the beggarly thanks. 
Come, sing; and you that will not, hold your 30 
tongues. 

Ami. Well, I'll end the song. Sirs, cover the while; 
the Duke will drink under this tree. He hath 
been all this day to look you. 

Jaq. And I have been all this day to avoid him. He 
is too disputable for my company: I think of as 
many matters as he, but I give heaven thanks 
and make no boast of them. Come, warble, 
come. 

Song. 

Who doth ambition shun [All together here 40 

And loves to live i' th' sun, 

Seeking the food he eats 

And pleased with what he gets, 
Come hither, come hither, come hither: 

Here shall he see 
- No enemy 
But winter and rough weather. 

Jaq. I'll give you a verse to this note that I made 

yesterday in despite of my invention. 
Ami. And I'll sing it. 50 



scene vi.] As You Like It 39 

Jaq. Thus it goes: — 

If it do come to pass 

That any man turn ass, 

Leaving his wealth and ease, 

A stubborn will to please, 
Ducdame, ducdame, ducdame: 

Here shall he see 

Gross fools as he 
An if he will come to me. 

Ami. What's that " ducdame " ? 60 

Jaq. 'Tis a Greek invocation, to call fools into a 
circle. I'll go sleep, if I can; if I cannot, I'll 
rail against all the first-born of Egypt. 
Ami. And I'll go seek the Duke: his banquet is 

prepared. [Exeunt severally. 



Scene VI 

The forest. 

Enter Orlando and Adam. 

Adam. Dear master, I can go no further: O, I die 
for food! Here lie I down, and measure out 
my grave. Farewell, kind master. 

Orl. Why, how now, Adam! no greater heart in 
thee? Live a little; comfort a little; cheer thy- 
self a little. If this uncouth forest yield any 



40 As You Like It [Act ii. 

thing savage, I will either be food for it or 
bring it for food to thee. Thy conceit is nearer 
death than thy powers. For my sake be com- 
fortable; hold death awhile at the arm's end; 10 
I will here be with thee presently; and if I 
bring thee not something to eat, I will give thee 
leave to die: but if thou diest before I come, 
thou art a mocker of my labor. Well said! 
thou lookest cheerly, and I'll be with thee 
quickly. Yet thou liest in the bleak air; come, 
I will bear thee to some shelter; and thou shalt 
not die for lack of a dinner, if there live any 
thing in this desert. Cheerly, good Adam! [Exeunt. 



Scene VII 

The forest. 

A table set out. Enter Duke senior, Amiens, and Lords, 

like outlaws. 

Duke S. I think he be transformed into a beast; 

For I can no where find him like a man. 
First Lord. My lord, he is but even now gone hence : 

Here was he merry, hearing of a song. 
Duke S. If he, compact of jars, grow musical, 

We shall have shortly discord in the spheres. 

Go, seek him : tell him I would speak with him. 



scene viij As You Like It 41 

Enter Jaques. 

First Lord. He saves my labor by his own approach. 

Duke S. Why, how now, monsieur! what a life is this, 
That your poor friends must woo your company? 10 
What, you look merrily! 

Jaq. A fool, a fool! I met a fool i' th' forest, 
A motley fool; — a miserable world! 
As I do live by food, I met a fool; 
Who laid him down and basked him in the sun, 
And railed on Lady Fortune in good terms, 
In good set terms, and yet a motley fool. 
" Good morrow, fool," quoth I. " No, sir," quoth 

he, 
" Call me not fool till heaven hath sent me fortune : " 
And then he drew a dial from his poke, 20 

And, looking on it with lack-lustre eye, 
Says very wisely, " It is ten o'clock: 
Thus we may see," quoth he, " how the world wags: 
'Tis but an hour ago since it was nine, 
And after one hour more 'twill be eleven ; 
And so, from hour to hour, we ripe and ripe, 
And then, from hour to hour, we rot and rot; 
And thereby hangs a tale." When I did hear 
The motley fool thus moral on the time, 
My lungs began to crow like chanticleer, 30 

That fools should be so deep-contemplative, 
And I did laugh sans intermission 
An hour by his dial. O noble fool! 
A worthy fool ! Motley's the only wear. 



42 As You Like It [act ii. 

Duke S. What fool is this? 

Jaq. O worthy fool! One that hath been a courtier, 
And says, if ladies be but young and fair, 
They have the gift to know it; and in his brain, 
Which is as dry as the remainder biscuit 
After a voyage, he hath strange places crammed 40 
With observation, the which he vents 
In mangled forms. O that I were a fool! 
I am ambitious for a motley coat. 

Duke S. Thou shalt have one. 

Jaq. It is my only suit; 

Provided that you weed your better judgments 
Of all opinion that grows rank in them 
That I am wise. I must have liberty 
Withal, as large a charter as the wind, 
To blow on whom I please ; for so fools have ; 
And they that are most galled with my folly, 50 
They most must laugh. And why, sir, must they so ? 
The why is plain as way to parish church: 
He that a fool doth very wisely hit 
Doth very foolishly, although he smart, 
Not to seem senseless of the bob: if not, 
The wise man's folly is anatomized 
Even by the squandering glances of the fool. 
Invest me in my motley; give me leave 
To speak my mind, and I will through and through 
Cleanse the foul body of the infected world, 60 

If they will patiently receive my medicine. 

Duke S. Fie on thee! I can tell what thou wouldst do. 

Jaq. What, for a counter, would I do but good ? 



scene vii.] As You Like It 43 

Duke S. Most mischievous foul sin, in chiding sin: 
For thou thyself hast been a libertine, 
As sensual as the brutish sting itself; 
And all the embossed sores and headed evils, 
That thou with license of free foot hast caught, 
Wouldst thou disgorge into the general world. 

Jaq. Why, who cries out on pride, 70 

That can therein tax any private party? 
Doth it not flow as hugely as the sea, 
Till that the wearer's very means do ebb? 
What woman in the city do I name, 
When that I say the city-woman bears 
The cost of princes on unworthy shoulders? 
Who can come in and say that I mean her, 
When such a one as she such is her neighbor? 
Or what is he of basest function 
That says his bravery is not on my cost, 80 

Thinking that I mean him, but therein suits 
His folly to the mettle of my speech? 
There then; how then? what then? Let me see 

wherein 
My tongue hath wronged him; if it do him right, 
Then he hath wronged himself ; if he be free, 
Why then my taxing like a wild-goose flies, 
Unclaimed of any man. But who comes here? 

Enter Orlando, with his sword drawn. 

Orl. Forbear, and eat no more. 

Jaq. Why, I have eat none yet 



44 As You Like It [act ii. 

Orl. Nor shalt not, till necessity be served. 

Jaq. Of what kind should this cock come of? 90 

Duke S. Art thou thus boldened, man, by thy distress, 
Or else a rude despiser of good manners, 
That in civility thou seem'st so empty? 

Orl. You touched my vein at first: the thorny point 
Of bare distress hath ta'en from me the show 
Of smooth civility: yet am I inland bred 
And know some nurture. But forbear, I say: 
He dies that touches any of this fruit 
Till I and my affairs are answered. 

Jaq. An you will not be answered with reason, I 100 
must die. 

Duke S. What would you have? Your gentleness 
shall force 
More than your force move us to gentleness. 

Orl. I almost die for food; and let me have it. 

Duke S. Sit down and feed, and welcome to our table. 

Orl. Speak you so gently? Pardon me, I pray you: 
I thought that all things had been savage here; 
And therefore put I on the countenance 
Of stern commandment. But whate'er you are 
That in this desert inaccessible, no 

Under the shade of melancholy boughs, 
Lose and neglect the creeping hours of time; 
If ever you have looked on better days, 
If ever been where bells have knolled to church, 
If ever sat at any good man's feast, 
If ever from your eyelids wiped a tear 
And know what 'tis to pity and be pitied, 



scene vii j As You Like It 45 

Let gentleness my strong enforcement be: 

In the which hope I blush, and hide my sword. 

Duke S. True is it that we have seen better days, 120 
And have with holy bell been knolled to church, 
And sat at good men's feasts, and wiped our eyes 
Of drops that sacred pity hath engendered: 
And therefore sit you down in gentleness 
And take upon command what help we have 
That to your wanting may be ministered. 

Orl. Then but forbear your food a little while, 
Whiles, like a doe, I go to find my fawn 
And give it food. There is an old poor man, 
Who after me hath many a weary step 130 

Limped in pure love : till he be first sufficed, 
Oppressed with two weak evils, age and hunger, 
I will not touch a bit. 

Duke S. Go find him out, 

And we will nothing waste till you return. 

Orl. I thank ye; and be blest for your good comfort! 

[Exit. 

Duke S. Thou seest we are not all alone unhappy: 
This wide and universal theater 
Presents more woeful pageants than the scene 
Wherein we play in. 

Jag. All the world's a stage, 

And all the men and women merely players: 140 
They have their exits and their entrances; 
And one man in his time plays many parts, 
His acts being seven ages. At first the infant, 
Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms. 



46 As You Like It [act ii. 

And then the whining school-boy, with his satchel 

And shining morning face, creeping like snail 

Unwillingly to school. And then the lover, 

Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad 

Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier, 

Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard, 150 

Jealous in honor, sudden and quick in quarrel, 

Seeking the bubble reputation 

Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice, 

In fair round belly with good capon lined, 

With eyes severe and beard of formal cut, 

Full of wise saws and modern instances; 

And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts 

Into the lean and slippered pantaloon, 

With spectacles on nose and pouch on side, 

His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide 160 

For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice, 

Turning again toward childish treble, pipes 

And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all, 

That ends this strange eventful history, 

Is second childishness and mere oblivion, 

Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans every thing. 

Re-enter Orlando with Adam. 

Duke S. Welcome. Set down your venerable burthen, 

And let him feed. 
Orl. I thank you most for him. 
Adam. So had you need: 

I scarce can speak to thank you for myself. 170 



Scene VII.] As You Like It 47 

Duke S. Welcome; fall to: I will not trouble you 
As yet, to question you about your fortunes. 
Give us some music; and, good cousin, sing. 



Song. 

Ami. Blow, blow, thou winter wind, 
Thou art not so unkind 
As man's ingratitude ; 
Thy tooth is not so keen, 
Because thou art not seen, 
Although thy breath be rude. 
Heigh-ho! sing, heigh-ho! unto the green holly; IoO 

Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly: 
Then, heigh-ho, the holly! 
This life is most jolly. 

Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky, 
That dost not bite so nigh 

As benefits forgot: 
Though thou the waters warp, 
Thy sting is not so sharp 

As friend remembered not. 
Heigh-ho! sing, etc. *9° 

Duke S. If that you were the good Sir Rowland's son, 
As you have whispered faithfully you were, 
And as mine eye doth his effigies witness 
Most truly limned and living in your face, 
Be truly welcome hither: I am the Duke 
That loved your father: the residue of your fortune, 
Go to my cave and tell me. Good old man, 
Thou art right welcome as thy master is. 



48 As You Like It [act hi. 

Support him by the arm. Give me your hand, 
And let me all your fortunes understand. 200 

[Exeunt. 



ACT THIRD 

Scene I 

A room in the palace. 

Enter Duke Frederick, Lords and Oliver. 

Duke F. Not see him since? Sir, sir, that cannot be: 
But were I not the better part made mercy, 
I should not seek an absent argument 
Of my revenge, thou present. But look to it: 
Find out thy brother, whereso'er he is ; 
Seek him with candle; bring him dead or living 
Within this twelvemonth, or turn thou no more 
To seek a living in our territory. 
Thy lands and all things that thou dost call thine 
Worth seizure do we seize into our hands, 10 

Till thou canst quit thee by thy brother's mouth 
Of what we think against thee. 

Oli. O that your highness knew my heart in this! 
I never loved my brother in my life. 

Duke F. More villain thou. Well, push him out of 
doors ; 
And let my officers of such a nature 



scene il] As You Like It 49 

Make an extent upon his house and lands: 

Do this expediently and turn him going. [Exeunt. 



Scene II 

The forest. 

Enter Orlando, with a paper. 

Orl. Hang there, my verse, in witness of my love: 

And thou, thrice-crowned queen of night survey 
With thy chaste eye, from thy pale sphere above, 

Thy huntress' name that my full life doth sway. 
O Rosalind! these trees shall be my books, 

And in their barks my thoughts I'll character; 
That every eye which in this forest looks 

Shall see thy virtue witnessed every where. 
Run, run, Orlando; carve on every tree 

The fair, the chaste and unexpressive she. 10 

[Exit. 

Enter Corin and Touchstone. 

Cor. And how like you this shepherd's life, Master 
Touchstone ? 

Touch. Truly, shepherd, in respect of itself, it is a 
good life; but in respect that it is a shepherd's 
life, it is naught. In respect that it is solitary, 
I like it very well; but in respect that it is 



50 As You Like It [act hi. 

private, it is a very vile life. Now, in respect 
it is in the fields, it pleaseth me well; but in res- 
pect it is not in the court, it is tedious. As it is 
a spare life, look you, it fits my humor well ; but 20 
as there is no more plenty in it, it goes much 
against my stomach. Hast any philosophy in 
thee, shepherd? 

Cor. No more but that I know the more one sickens 
the worse at ease he is; and that he that wants 
money, means and content is without three good 
friends; that the property of rain is to wet and 
fire to burn; that good pasture makes fat sheep, 
and that a great cause of the night is lack of the 
sun; that he that hath learned no wit by nature 30 
nor art may complain of good breeding or comes 
of a very dull kindred. 

Touch. Such a one is a natural philosopher. 
Wast ever in court, shepherd? 

Cor. No, truly. 

Touch. Then thou art damned. 

Cor. Nay, I hope. 

Touch. Truly, thou art damned, like an ill-roasted 
egg all on one side. 

Cor. For not being at court? Your reason. 40 

Touch. Why, if thou never wast at court, thou never 
sawest good manners; if thou never sawest good 
manners, then thy manners must be wicked ; and 
wickedness is sin, and sin is damnation. Thou 
art in a parlous state, shepherd. 

Cor, Not a whit, Touchstone: those that are good 



scene il] As You Like It 51 

manners at the court are as ridiculous in the 
country as the behavior of the country is most 
mockable at the court. You told me you salute 
not at the court, but you kiss your hands: that 50 
courtesy would be uncleanly, if courtiers were 
shepherds. 

Touch. Instance, briefly; come, instance. 

Cor. Why, we are still handling our ewes, and 
their fells, you know, are greasy. 

Touch. Why, do not your courtier's hands sweat? 
and is not the grease of a mutton as wholesome 
as the sweat of a man? Shallow, shallow. A 
better instance, I say; come. 

Cor. Besides, our hands are hard. 60 

Touch. Your lips will feel them the sooner. Shal- 
low again. A more sounder instance, come. 

Cor. And they are often tarred over with the sur- 
gery of our sheep: and would you have us kiss 
tar? The courtier's hands are perfumed with 
civet. 

Touch. Most shallow man! thou worms-meat, in 
respect of a good piece of flesh indeed! Learn 
of the wise, and perpend: civet is of a baser 
birth than tar ...... 7° 

Mend the instance, shepherd. 

Cor. You have too courtly a wit for me: I'll 
rest. 

Touch. Wilt thou rest damned? God help thee, 
shallow man! God make incision in thee! thou 
art raw. 



52 As You Like It [act hi, 

Cor. Sir, I am a true laborer: I earn that I eat, get 
that I wear, owe no man hate, envy no man's 
happiness, glad of other men's good, content with 
my harm, and the greatest of my pride is to see 80 
my ewes graze and my lambs suck. 

Touch. That is another simple sin in you 

If thou beest 
not damned for this, the devil himself will have 
no shepherds; I cannot see else how thou 
shouldst 'scape. 90 

Cor. Here comes young Master Ganymede, my new 
mistress's brother. 

Enter Rosalind, with a paper, reading. 



Ros. From the east to western Ind, 
No jewel is like Rosalind. 
Her worth, being mounted on the wind, 
Through all the world bears Rosalind. 
All the pictures fairest lined 
Are but black to Rosalind. 
Let no fair be kept in mind 
But the fair of Rosalind. 1 00 

Touch. I'll rhyme you so eight years together, 
dinners and suppers and sleeping-hours ex- 
cepted: it is the right butter-women's rank to 
market. 

Ros. Out, fool! 

Touch. For a taste: 



Scene II.] As YOU Like It 53 

If a hart do lack a hind, 

Let him seek out Rosalind. 

If the cat will after kind, 

So be sure will Rosalind. UO 

Winter garments must be lined, 

So must slender Rosalind. 

They that reap must sheaf and bind; 

Then to cart with Rosalind. 

Sweetest nut hath sourest rind, 

Such a nut is Rosalind. 

He that sweetest rose will find, 

Must find love's prick and Rosalind. 

This is the very false gallop of verses: why do 
you infect yourself with them? 120 

Ros. Peace, you dull fool! I found them on a 
tree. 

Touch. Truly, the tree yields bad fruit. 

Ros. I'll graff it with you, and then I shall graff it 
with a medlar: then it will be the earliest fruit 
i' the country; for you'll be rotten ere you be 
half ripe, and that's the right virtue of the 
medlar. 

Touch. You have said; but whether wisely or no, 

let the forest judge. 130 

Enter Celia, with a writing. 

Ros. Peace! 

Here comes my sister, reading; stand aside. 

Cel. [Reads.] Why should this a desert be? 
For it is unpeopled? No; 



54 As You Like It [act hi. 

Tongues I'll hang on every tree, 

That shall civil sayings show: 
Some, how brief the life of man 

Runs his erring pilgrimage, 
That the stretching of a span 

Buckles in his sum of age; 140 

Some of violated vows 

'Twixt the souls of friend and friend: 
But upon the fairest boughs, 

Or at every sentence end, 
Will I Rosalinda write, 

Teaching all that read to know 
The quintessence of every sprite 

Heaven would in little show. 
Therefore Heaven Nature charged 

That one body should be filled 15° 

With all graces wide-enlarged: 

Nature presently distilled 
Helen's cheek, but not her heart, 

Cleopatra's majesty, 
Atalanta's better part, 

Sad Lucretia's modesty. 
Thus Rosalind of many parts 
By heavenly synod was devised, 
Of many faces, eyes and hearts, 

To have the touches dearest prized. I DO 

Heaven would that she these gifts should have, 
And I to live and die her slave. 

Ros. O most gentle pulpiter! what tedious homily 
of love have you wearied your parishioners 
withal, and never cried, "Have patience, good 
people !" 

Cel. How now! back, friends! Shepherds, go off a 
little. Go with him, sirrah. 



scene iij As You Like It 55 

Touch. Come, shepherd, let us make an honorable 

retreat, though not with bag and baggage, yet 170 
with scrip and scrippage. 

[Exeunt Corin and Touchstone. 

Cel. Didst thou hear these verses? 

Ros. O, yes, I heard them all, and more too; for 
some of them had in them more feet than the 
verses would bear. 

Cel. That's no matter: the feet might bear the verses. 

Ros. Ay, but the feet were lame and could not bear 
themselves without the verse, and therefore stood 
lamely in the verse. 1 80 

Cel. But didst thou hear without wondering how thy 
name should be hanged and carved upon these 
trees ? 

Ros. I was seven of the nine days out of the wonder 
before you came ; for look here what I found on 
a palm-tree. I was never so berhymed since Py- 
thagoras' time, that I was an Irish rat, which I 
can hardly remember. 

Cel. Trow you who hath done this? 

Ros. Is it a man? 190 

Cel. And a chain, that you once wore, about his 
neck. Change you color? 

Ros. I prithee, who? 

Cel. O Lord, Lord! it is a hard matter for friends 
to meet; but mountains may be removed with 
earthquakes and so encounter. 

Ros. Nay, but who is it? 

Cel. Is it possible ? 



56 As You Like It [Act in. 

Ros. Nay, I prithee now with most petitionary vehe- 
mence, tell me who it is. 200 

Cel. O wonderful, wonderful, and most wonderful 
wonderful! and yet again wonderful, and after 
that, out of all hooping! 

Ros. Good my complexion ! Dost thou think, though 
I am caparisoned like a man, I have a doublet 
and hose in my disposition? One inch of delay 
more is a South-sea of discovery; I prithee, tell 
me who is it quickly, and speak apace. I would 
thou couldst stammer, that thou mightest pour 
this concealed man out of thy mouth, as wine 210 
comes out of a narrow-mouthed bottle, either 
too much at once, or none at all. I prithee, take 
the cork out of thy mouth that I may drink thy 
tidings. Is he of God's making? What manner 
of man? Is his head worth a hat, or his chin 
worth a beard? 

Cel. Nay, he hath but a little beard. 

Ros. Why, God will send more, if the man will 220 
be thankful: let me stay the growth of his 
beard, if thou delay me not the knowledge of 
his chin. 

Cel. It is young Orlando, that tripped up the wrest- 
ler's heels and your heart both in an instant. 

Ros. Nay, but the devil take mocking: speak, sad 
brow and true maid. 

Cel. V faith, coz, 't is he. 

Ros. Orlando? 

Cel. Orlando. 230 



scene iij As You Like It 57 

Ros. Alas the day! what shall I do with my doublet 

and hose ? What did he when thou sawest him ? 

What said he? How looked he? Wherein 

went he? What makes he here? Did he ask 

for me? Where remains he? How parted he 

with thee? and when shalt thou see him again? 

Answer me in one word. 
Cel. You must borrow me Gargantua's mouth first: 

'tis a word too great for any mouth of this age's 

size. To say ay and no to these particulars is 240 

more than to answer in a catechism. 
Ros. But doth he know that I am in this forest and 

in man's apparel ? Looks he as freshly as he did 

the day he wrestled? 
Cel. It is as easy to count atomies as to resolve the 

propositions of a lover; but take a taste of my 

finding him, and relish it with good observance. 

I found him under a tree, like a dropped acorn. 
Ros. It may well be called Jove's tree, when it drops 

forth such fruit. 250 

Cel. Give me audience, good madam. 
Ros. Proceed. 
Cel. There lay he, stretched along, like a wounded 

knight. 
Ros. Though it be pity to see such a sight, it well 

becomes the ground. 
Cel. Cry " holla " to thy tongue, I prithee ; it 

curvets unseasonably. He was furnished like a 

hunter. 
Ros. O, ominous! he comes to kill my heart. 260 



58 As You Like It [act hi. 

Cel. I would sing my song without a burden: thou 

bringest me out of tune. 
Ros. Do you not know I am a woman ? when I think, 

I must speak. Sweet, say on. 
Cel. You bring me out. Soft! comes he not 

here? 

Enter Orlando and Jaques. 

Ros. 'Tis he: slink by, and note him. 

Jag. I thank you for your company; but good 

faith, I had as lief have been myself 

alone. 270 

Orl. And so had I ; but yet, for fashion sake, I thank 

you too for your society. 
Jag. God be wr* you: let's meet as little as we 

can. 
Orl. I do desire we may be better strangers. 
Jag. I pray you, mar no more trees with writing 

love-songs in their barks. 
Orl. I pray you, mar no moe of my verses with 

reading them ill-favoredly. 
Jag. Rosalind is your love's name? 280 

Orl. Yes, just. 
Jag. I do not like her name. 
Orl. There was no thought of pleasing you when 

she was christened. 
Jag. What stature is she of? 
Orl. Just as high as my heart. 
Jag. You are full of pretty answers. Have you not 



scene ii.] As You Like It 59 

been acquainted with goldsmiths' wives, and 
conned them out of rings? 

Orl. Not so; but I answer you right painted cloth, 290 
from whence you have studied your ques- 
tions. 

Jaq. You have a nimble wit: I think 'twas made of 
Atalanta's heels. Will you sit down with me? 
and we two will rail against our mistress the 
world and all our misery. 

Orl. I will chide no breather in the world but my- 
self, against whom I know most faults. 

Jaq. The worst fault you have is to be in 

love. 300 

Orl. 'Tis a fault I will not change for your best 
virtue. I am weary of you. 

Jaq. By my troth, I was seeking for a fool when I 
found you. 

Orl. He is drowned in the brook: look but in, and 
you shall see him. 

Jaq. There I shall see mine own figure. 

Orl. Which I take to be either a fool or a cipher. 

Jaq. I'll tarry no longer with you: farewell, good 

Signior Love. 310 

Orl. I am glad of your departure ; adieu, good Mon- 
sieur Melancholy. [Exit Jaques. 

Ros. [Aside to Celia.] I will speak to him like a 
saucy lackey and under that habit play the knave 
with him. Do you hear, forester? 

Orl. Very well: what would you? 

Ros. I pray you, what is 't o'clock? 



60 As You Like It [Act hi. 

Orl. You should ask me what time o' day: there's 
no clock in the forest. 

Ros. Then there is no true lover in the forest; else 320 
sighing every minute and groaning every hour 
would detect the lazy foot of Time as well as a 
clock. 

Orl. And why not the swift foot of Time? had not 
that been as proper? 

Ros. By no means, sir: Time travels in divers paces 
with divers persons. I'll tell you who Time am- 
bles withal, who Time trots withal, who Time 
gallops withal and who he stands still withal. 

Orl. I prithee, who doth he trot withal? 330 

Ros. Marry, he trots hard with a young maid be- 
tween the contract of her marriage and the day 
it is solemnized; if the interim be but a se'n- 
night, Time's pace is so hard that it seems the 
length of seven year. 

Orl. Who ambles Time withal? 

Ros. With a priest that lacks Latin and a rich man 
that hath not the gout, for the one sleeps easily 
because he cannot study, and the other lives 
merrily because he feels no pain, the one lacking 340 
the burden of lean and wasteful learning, the 
other knowing no burden of heavy tedious pen- 
ury; these Time ambles withal. 

Orl. Who doth he gallop withal? 

Ros. With a thief to the gallows; for though he go 
as softly as foot can fall, he thinks himself too 
soon there. 



scene ii.] As You Like It 6 1 

OrL Who stays it still withal? 

Ros. With lawyers in the vacation; for they sleep 

between term and term, and then they perceive 350 
not how Time moves. 

OrL Where dwell you, pretty youth? 

Ros. With this shepherdess, my sister; here in the 
skirts of the forest, like fringe upon a petti- 
coat. 

OrL Are you native of this place? 

Ros. As the cony that you see dwell where she is 
kindled. 

OrL Your accent is something finer than you could 

purchase in so removed a dwelling. 360 

Ros. I have been told so of many: but indeed an old 
religious uncle of mine taught me to speak, who 
was in his youth an inland man; one that knew 
courtship too well, for there he fell in love. I 
have heard him read many lectures against it, 
and I thank God I am not a woman, to be 
touched with so many giddy offences as he hath 
generally taxed their whole sex withal. 

OrL Can you remember any of the principal evils 

that he laid to the charge of women? 370 

Ros. There were none principal; they were all like 
one another as half-pence are, every one fault 
seeming monstrous till his fellow-fault came to 
match it. 

OrL I prithee, recount some of them. 

Ros. No, I will not cast away my physic but on 
those that are sick. There is a man haunts the 



62 As You Like It [act hi. 

forest, that abuses our young plants with carv- 
ing Rosalind on their barks; hangs odes upon 
hawthorns and elegies on brambles, all, forsooth 380 
deifying the name of Rosalind: if I could meet 
that fancy-monger, I would give him some good 
counsel, for he seems to have the quotidian of 
love upon him. 

Orl. I am he that is so love-shaked: I pray you, 
tell me your remedy. 

Ros. There is none of my uncle's marks upon you: 
he taught me how to know a man in love; in 
which cage of rushes I am sure you are not 
prisoner. 390 

Orl. What were his marks? 

Ros. A lean cheek, which you have not; a blue eye 
and sunken, which you have not ; an unquestion- 
able spirit, which you have not; a beard neg- 
lected, which you have not; but I pardon you 
for that, for simply your having in beard is a 
younger brother's revenue: then your hose 
should be ungartered, your bonnet unhanded, 
your sleeve unbuttoned, your shoe untied and 
every thing about you demonstrating a careless 400 
desolation; but you are no such man; you are 
rather point-device in your accoutrements, as lov- 
ing yourself than seeming the lover of any other. 

Orl. Fair youth, I would I could make thee believe 
I love. 

Ros. Me believe it! you may as soon make her that 
you love believe it ; which, I warrant, she is apter 



scene il] As You Like It 63 

to do than to confess she does: that is one of 
the points in the which women still give the lie 
to their consciences. But, in good sooth, are you 410 
he that hangs the verses on the trees, wherein 
Rosalind is so admired? 

Orl. I swear to thee, youth, by the white hand of 
Rosalind, I am that he, that unfortunate 
he. 

Ros. But are you so much in love as your rhymes 
speak? 

Orl. Neither rhyme nor reason can express how 
much. 

Ros. Love is merely a madness, and, I tell you, de- 420 
serves as well a dark house and a whip as mad- 
men do; and the reason why they are not so 
punished and cured is, that the lunacy is so ordi- 
nary that the whippers are in love too. Yet I 
profess curing it by counsel. 

Orl. Did you ever cure any so? 

Ros. Yes, one, and in this manner. He was to 
imagine me his love, his mistress; and I set him 
every day to woo me: at which time would I, 
being but a moonish youth, grieve, be effeminate, 430 
changeable, longing and liking, proud, fantas- 
tical, apish, shallow, inconstant, full of tears, 
full of smiles, for every passion something and 
for no passion truly any thing, as boys and wom- 
en are for the most part cattle of this color; 
would now like him, now loathe him; then en- 
tertain him, then forswear him; now weep for 



64 As You Like It [Act hi. 

him, then spit at him; that I drave my suitor 
from his mad humor of love to a living humor 
of madness; which was, to forswear the full 440 
stream of the world and to live in a nook merely 
monastic. And thus I cured him ; and this way 
will I take upon me to wash your liver as clean 
as a sound sheep's heart, that there shall not be 
one spot of love in 't. 

Orl. I would not be cured, youth. 

Ros. I would cure you, if you would but call me 
Rosalind, and come every day to my cote and 
woo me. 

Orl. Now, by the faith of my love, I will: tell me 450 
where it is. 

Ros. Go with me to it and I'll show it you: and 
by the way you shall tell me where in the forest 
you live. Will you go? 

Orl. With all my heart, good youth. 

Ros. Nay, you must call me Rosalind. Come, sister, 

will you go? [Exeunt. 



Scene III 

The forest. 

Enter Touchstone and Audrey ; Jaques behind. 

Touch. Come apace, good Audrey: I will fetch up 
your goats, Audrey. And how, Audrey? am I 



Scene III.] As You Like It 65 

the man yet? doth my simple feature content 

you? 
Aud. Your features! Lord warrant us! what 

features ? 
Touch. I am here with thee and thy goats, as the 

most capricious poet, honest Ovid, was among 

the Goths. 
Jaq. [Aside.] O knowledge ill-inhabited, worse than 10 

Jove in a thatched house! 
Touch. When a man's verses cannot be understood, 

nor a man's good wit seconded with the forward 

child, understanding, it strikes a man more dead 

than a great reckoning in a little room. Truly, 

I would the gods had made thee poetical. 
Aud. I do not know what "poetical" is: is it honest 

in deed and word? is it a true thing? 
Touch. No, truly; for the truest poetry is the most 

feigning; and lovers are given to poetry, and 20 

what they swear in poetry may be said as lovers 

they do feign. 
Aud. Do you wish then that the gods had made me 

poetical ? 
Touch. I do, truly; for thou swearest to me thou art 

honest: now, if thou wert a poet, I might have 

some hope thou didst feign. 
Aud. Would you not have me honest? 
Touch. No, truly, unless thou wert hard-favored; 

for honesty coupled to beauty is to have honey 30 

a sauce to sugar. 
Jaq. [Aside.] A material fool! 



66 As You Like It [Act hi. 

Aud. Well, I am not fair; and therefore I pray the 
gods make me honest. 

Touch. Truly, and to cast away honesty upon a 
foul slut were to put good meat into an unclean 
dish. 

Aud. I am not a slut, though I thank the gods I am 
foul. 

Touch. Well, praised be the gods for thy foulness! 40 
sluttishness may come hereafter. But be it as 
it may be, I will marry thee, and to that end 
I have been with Sir Oliver Martext, the vicar 
of the next village, who hath promised to meet 
me in this place of the forest and to couple us. 

Jaq. [Aside.] I would fain see this meeting. 

Aud. Well, the gods give us joy! 

Touch. Amen. A man may, if he were of a fear- 
ful heart, stagger in this attempt; for here we 
have no temple but the wood, no assembly but 50 
horn-beasts. But what though? Courage! As 
horns are odious, they are necessary. It is said, 
"many a man knows no end of his goods:" 
right; many a man has good horns, and knows 
no end of them. Well, that is the dowry of his 
wife ; 'tis none of his own getting. Horns ? Even 
so. Poor men alone ? No, no : the noblest deer 
hath them as huge as the rascal. Is the single 
man therefore blessed ? No : as a walled town is 
more worthier than a village, so is the forehead 60 
of a married man more honorable than the bare 
brow of a bachelor ; and by how much defense is 



Scene III.] As You Like It 67 

better than no skill, by so much is a horn more 
precious than to want. Here comes Sir Oliver. 



Enter Sir Oliver Martext. 

Sir Oliver Martext, you are well met: will 
you dispatch us here under this tree, or shall 
we go with you to your chapel ? 

Sir Oli. Is there none here to give the woman? 

Touch. I will not take her on gift of any man. 

Sir Oli. Truly, she must be given, or the marriage 70 
is not lawful. 

Jaq. [Advancing.] Proceed, proceed: I'll give her. 

Touch. Good even, good Master What-ye-call 't: 
how do you, sir? You are very well met: 
God 'ild you for your last company: I am very 
glad to see you; even a toy in hand here, sir: 
nay, pray be covered. 

Jaq. Will you be married, motley? 

Touch. As the ox hath his bow, sir, the horse his 80 
curb and the falcon her bells, so man hath his 
desires; and as pigeons bill, so wedlock would 
be nibbling. 

Jaq. And will you, being a man of your breeding, 
be married under a bush like a beggar? Get 
you to church, and have a good priest that can 
tell you what marriage is: this fellow will but 
join you together as they join wainscot; then 
one of you will prove a shrunk panel and, like 
green timber, warp, warp. 90 



68 As You Like It [aci hi. 

Touch. [Aside.] I am not in the mind but I were 
better to be married of him than of another : for 
he is not like to marry me well; and not being 
well married, it will be a good excuse for me 
hereafter to leave my wife. 

Jaq. Go thou with me, and let me counsel thee. 

Touch. Come, sweet Audrey: 

Farewell, good Master Oliver: not, — ioo 

O sweet Oliver, 
O brave Oliver, 
Leave me not behind thee : 
but, — 

Wind away, 
Begone, I say, 
I will not to wedding with thee. 

[Exeunt Jaques, Touchstone, and Audrey. 
Sir Oli. 'Tis no matter: ne'er a fantastical knave 

of them all shall flout me out of my calling. [Exit. 



Scene IV 

The forest. 

Enter Rosalind and Celia. 

Ros. Never talk to me; I will weep. 
Cel. Do, I prithee; but yet have the grace to con- 
sider that tears do not become a man. 



Scene IV.] As YoU Like It 69 

Ros. But have I not cause to weep ? 
Cel. As good cause as one would desire; therefore 
weep. 

Ros. His very hair is of the dissembling color. 
Cel. Something browner than Judas's: marry, his 

kisses are Judas's own children. 10 

Ros. V faith, his hair is of a good color. 
Cel. An excellent color; your chestnut was ever the 

only color. 
Ros. And his kissing is as full of sanctity as the 

touch of holy bread. 
Cel. He hath bought a pair of cast lips of Diana: 

a nun of winter's sisterhood kisses not more 

religiously; the very ice of chastity is in 

them. 
Ros. But why did he swear he would come this 20 

morning, and comes not? 
Cel. Nay, certainly, there is no truth in him. 
Ros. Do you think so? 

Cel. Yes ; I think he is not a pick-purse nor a horse- 
stealer ; but for his verity in love, I do think him 

as concave as a covered goblet, or a worm-eaten 

nut. 
Ros. Not true in love? 
Cel. Yes, when he is in; but I think he is not 

in. 30 

Ros. You have heard him swear downright he 

was. 
Cel. "Was" is not "is:" besides, the oath of a lover 

is no stronger than the word of a tapster; they 



70 As You Like It [act hi. 

are both the confirmer of false reckonings. He 
attends here in the forest on the Duke your 
father. 

Ros. I met the Duke yesterday and had much ques- 
tion with him : he asked me of what parentage I 
was ; I told him, of as good as he ; so he laughed 40 
and let me go. But what talk we of fathers, 
when there is such a man as Orlando ? 

Cel. O, that 's a brave man! he writes brave verses, 
speaks brave words, swears brave oaths and 
breaks them bravely, quite traverse, athwart the 
heart of his lover; as a puisny tilter, that spurs 
his horse but on one side, breaks his staff like a 
noble goose: but all 's brave that youth mounts 
and folly guides. Who comes here? 

Enter CoRIN. 

Cor. Mistress and master, you have oft inquired 50 

After the shepherd that complained of love, 
Who you saw sitting by me on the turf, 
Praising the proud disdainful shepherdess 
That was his mistress. 

Cel. Well, and what of him? 

Cor. If you will see a pageant truly played, 
Between the pale complexion of true love 
And the red glow of scorn and proud disdain, 
Go hence a little and I shall conduct you, 
If you will mark it. 

Ros. O, come, let us remove: 

The sight of lovers feedeth those in love. 60 



Scene V.] As You Like It J I 

Bring us to this sight, and you shall say 

I'll prove a busy actor in their play. [Exeunt. 



Scene V 

Another part of the forest. 

Enter Silvius and Phebe. 

Sil. Sweet Phebe, do not scorn me; do not, Phebe; 
Say that you love me not, but say not so 
In bitterness. The common executioner, 
Whose heart the accustomed sight of death makes 

hard, 
Falls not the axe upon the humbled neck 
But first begs pardon : will you sterner be 
Than he that dies and lives by bloody drops? 

Enter Rosalind, Celia, and Corin, behind. 

Phe. I would not be thy executioner: 

I fly thee, for I would not injure thee. 

Thou tell'st me there is murder in mine eye: 10 

'Tis pretty, sure, and very probable, 

That eyes, that are the frail'st and softest things, 

Who shut their coward gates on atomies, 

Should be called tyrants, butchers, murderers! 

Now I do frown on thee with all my heart; 

And if mine eyes can wound, now let them kill thee ; 



72 As You Like It [act hi. 

Now counterfeit to swoon; why now fall down; 

Or if thou canst not, O, for shame, for shame, 

Lie not, to say mine eyes are murderers! 

Now show the wound mine eye hath made in thee : 20 

Scratch thee but with a pin, and there remains 

Some scar of it; lean but upon a rush, 

The cicatrice and capable impressure 

Thy palm some moment keeps ; but now mine eyes, 

Which I have darted at thee, hurt thee not, 

Nor, I am sure, there is no force in eyes 

That can do hurt. 

Sil. O dear Phebe, 

If ever — as that ever may be near — 
You meet in some fresh cheek the power of fancy, 
Then shall you know the wounds invisible 30 

That love's keen arrows make. 

Phe. But till that time 

Come not thou near me : and when that time comes, 
Afflict me with thy mocks, pity me not; 
As till that time I shall not pity thee. 

Ros. [Coming forward.] And why, I pray you? Who 
might be your mother, 
That you insult, exult, and all at once, 
Over the wretched? What though you have no 

beauty, — 
As, by my faith, I see no more in you 
Than without candle may go dark to bed — 
Must you be therefore proud and pitiless? 40 

Why, what means this? Why do you look on me? 
I see no more in you than in the ordinary 



scene v.j As You Like It 73 

Of nature's sale-work. 'Od 's my little life, 

I think she means to tangle my eyes too! 

No, faith, proud mistress, hope not after it : 

'Tis not your inky brows, your black silk hair, 

Your bugle eyeballs, nor your cheek of cream, 

That can entame my spirits to your worship. 

You foolish shepherd, wherefore do you follow her, 

Like foggy south puffing with wind and rain ? 50 

You are a thousand times a properer man 

Than she a woman: 'tis such fools as you 

That makes the world full of ill-favored children: 

'Tis not her glass, but you, that flatters her; 

And out of you she sees herself more proper 

Than any of her lineaments can show her. 

But, mistress, know yourself: down on your knees, 

And thank heaven, fasting, for a good man's love: 

For I must tell you friendly in your ear, 

Sell when you can : you are not for all markets : 60 

Cry the man mercy; love him; take his offer: 

Foul is most foul, being foul to be a scoffer. 

So take her to thee, shepherd : fare you well. 

Phe. Sweet youth, I pray you, chide a year together: 
I had rather hear you chide than this man woo. 

Ros. He's fallen in love with your foulness, and 
she'll fall in love with my anger. If it be so, 
as fast as she answers thee with frowning looks, 
I'll sauce her with bitter words. Why look you 
so upon me? 70 

Phe. For no ill will I bear you. 

Ros. I pray you, do not fall in love with me, 



74 As You Like It [act in. 

For I am falser than vows made in wine: 
Besides, I like you not. If you will know my house, 
'Tis at the tuft of olives here hard by. 
Will you go, sister? Shepherd, ply her hard. 
Come, sister. Shepherdess, look on him better; 
And be not proud: though all the world could see, 
None could be so abused in sight as he. 
Come, to our flock. 80 

[Exeunt Rosalind, Celia, and Corin. 

Phe. Dead shepherd, now I find thy saw of might, 
"Who ever loved that loved not at first sight?" 

Sil. Sweet Phebe, — 

Phe. Ha, what say'st thou, Silvius? 

Sil. Sweet Phebe, pity me. 

Phe. Why, I am sorry for thee, gentle Silvius. 

Sil. Wherever sorrow is, relief would be: 
If you do sorrow at my grief in love, 
By giving love your sorrow and my grief 
Were both extermined. 

Phe. Thou hast my love: is not that neighborly? 90 

Sil. I would have you. 

Phe. Why, that were covetousness. 

Silvius, the time was that I hated thee, 
And yet it is not that I bear thee love; 
But since that thou canst talk of love so well, 
Thy company, which erst was irksome to me, 
I will endure, and I'll employ thee too: 
But do not look for further recompense 
Than thine own gladness that thou art employed. 

Sil. So holy and so perfect is my love, 



scene v.] As You Like It ' 75 

And I in such a poverty of grace, 100 

That I shall think it a most plenteous crop 

To glean the broken ears after the man 

That the main harvest reaps: loose now and then 

A scattered smile, and that I'll live upon. 

Phe. Know'st thou the youth that spoke to me erewhile? 

SiL Not very well, but I have met him oft; 

And he hath bought the cottage and the bounds 
That the old carlot once was master of. 

Phe. Think not I love him, though I ask for him; 

"Tis but a peevish boy; yet he talks well; no 

But what care I for words? yet words do well 
When he that speaks them pleases those that hear. 
It is a pretty youth : not very pretty : 
But, sure, he's proud ; and yet his pride becomes him : 
He'll make a proper man: the best thing in him 
Is his complexion; and faster than his tongue 
Did make offence his eye did heal it up. 
He is not very tall ; yet for his years he's tall : 
His leg is but so so; and yet 'tis well: 
There was a pretty redness in his lip, 120 

A little riper and more lusty red 
Than that mixed in his cheek; 'twas just the dif- 
ference 
Betwixt the constant red and mingled damask. 
There be some women, Silvius, had they marked him 
In parcels as I did, would have gone near 
To fall in love with him ; but, for my part, 
I love him not nor hate him not; and yet 
I have more cause to hate him than to love him : 



76 As You Like It [act iv. 

For what had he to do to chide at me? 

He said mine eyes were black and my hair black; 130 

And, now I am remembered, scorned at me: 

I marvel why I answered not again: 

But that's all one: omittance is no quittance. 

I'll write to him a very taunting letter, 

And thou shalt bear it: wilt thou, Silvius? 
Sil. Phebe, with all my heart. 
Phe. I'll write it straight; 

The matter 's in my head and in my heart; 

I will be bitter with him and passing short. 

Go with me, Silvius. [Exeunt. 



ACT FOURTH 

Scene I 

The forest. 

Enter Rosalind, Celia, and Jaques. 

Jaq. I prithee, pretty youth, let me be better ac- 
quainted with thee. 

Ros. They say you are a melancholy fellow. 

Jaq. I am so; I do love it better than laughing. 

Ros. Those that are in extremity of either are abom- 
inable fellows, and betray themselves to every 
modern censure worse than drunkards. 

Jaq. Why, 'tis good to be sad and say nothing. 



Scene I.] As You Like It 77 

Ros. Why then, 'tis good to be a post. 

Jaq. I have neither the scholar's melancholy, which 10 
is emulation, nor the musician's, which is fantas- 
tical, nor the courtier's, which is proud, nor the 
soldier's, which is ambitious, nor the lawyer's, 
which is politic, nor the lady's, which is nice, nor 
the lover's, which is all these: but it is a melan- 
choly of mine own, compounded of many simples, 
extracted from many objects, and indeed the 
sundry contemplation of my travels, in which 
my often rumination wraps me in a most humor- 
ous sadness. 20 

Ros. A traveler! By my faith, you have great rea- 
son to be sad: I fear you have sold your own 
lands to see other men's; then, to have seen 
much and to have nothing, is to have rich eyes 
and poor hands, 

Jaq. Yes, I have gained my experience. 

Ros. And your experience makes you sad: I had 
rather have a fool to make me merry than expe- 
rience to make me sad ; and to travel for it too ! 

Enter Orlando. 

Orl. Good day and happiness, dear Rosalind! 30 

Jaq. Nay, then, God b' wi' you, an you talk in 

blank verse. 

[Exit. 
Ros. Farewell, Monsieur Traveler: look you lisp 

and wear strange suits, disable all the benefits of 



78 As You Like It [act iv. 

3'our own country, be out of love with your 
nativity and almost chide God for making you 
that countenance you are, or I will scarce think 
you have swam in a gondola. — Why, how now, 
Orlando! where have you been all this while? 
You a lover! And you serve me such another 40 
trick, never come in my sight more. 

Orl. My fair Rosalind, I come within an hour of 
my promise. 

Ros. Break an hour's promise in love ! He that will 
divide a minute into a thousand parts and break 
but a part of the thousandth part of a minute 
in the affairs of love, it may be said of him that 
Cupid hath clapped him o' the shoulder, but I'll 
warrant him heart-whole. 

Orl. Pardon me, dear Rosalind. 50 

Ros. Nay, an you be so tardy, come no more in my 
sight: I had as lief be wooed of a snail. 

Orl. Of a snail? 

Ros. Ay, of a snail; for though he comes slowly, he 
carries his house on his head; a better jointure, I 
think, than you make a woman; besides, he 
brings his destiny with him. 

Orl. What's that? 

Ros. Why, horns, which such as you are fain to be 

beholding to your wives for ; but he comes armed 60 
in his fortune and prevents the slander of his 
wife. 

Orl. Virtue is no horn-maker; and my Rosalind is 
virtuous. 



Scene I.] As You Like It 79 

Ros. And I am your Rosalind. 

Cel. It pleases him to call you so; but he hath a 
Rosalind of a better leer than you. 

Ros. Come, woo me, woo me, for now I am in a 
holiday humor and like enough to consent. 
What would you say to me now, an I were your 70 
very very Rosalind? 

Orl. I would kiss before I spoke. 

Ros. Nay, you were better speak first, and when you 
were gravelled for lack of matter, you might 
take occasion to kiss. Very good orators, when 
they are out, they will spit; and for lovers lack- 
ing — God warn us! — matter, the cleanliest shift 
is to kiss. 

Orl. How if the kiss be denied? 

Ros. Then she puts you to entreaty, and there 80 
begins new matter. 

Orl. Who could be out, being before his beloved 
mistress ? 

Ros. Marry, that should you, if I were your mis- 
tress, or I should think my honesty ranker than 
my wit. 

Orl. What, of my suit? 

Ros. Not out of your apparel, and yet out of your 
suit. Am not I your Rosalind? 

Orl. I take some joy to say you are, because I would 90 
be talking of her. 

Ros. Well, in her person I say I will not have you. 

Orl. Then in mine own person I die. 

Ros. No, faith, die by attorney. The poor world is 



80 As You Like It [Act iv 

almost six thousand years old, and in all this 
time there was not any man died in his own 
person, videlicet, in a love-cause. Troilus had 
his brains dashed out with a Grecian club ; yet he 
did what he could to die before, and he is one of 
the patterns of love. Leander, he would have ioo 
lived many a fair year, though Hero had turned 
nun, if it had not been for a hot midsummer 
night; for, good youth, he went but forth to 
wash him in the Hellespont and being taken with 
the cramp was drowned : and the foolish chroni- 
clers of that age found it was " Hero of Sestos." 
But these are all lies : men have died from time to 
time and worms have eaten them, but not for love. 

Orl. I would not have my right Rosalind of this 

mind, for, I protest, her frown might kill me. 1 10 

Ros. By this hand, it will not kill a fly. But come, 
now I will be your Rosalind in a more coming- 
on disposition, and ask me what you will, I will 
grant it. 

Orl. Then love me, Rosalind. 

Ros. Yes, faith, will I, Fridays and Saturdays and 
all. 

Orl. And wilt thou have me? 

Ros. Ay, and twenty such. 

Orl. What sayest thou ? 120 

Ros. Are you not good? 

Orl. I hope so. 

Ros. Why then, can one desire too much of a good 
thing? Come, sister, you shall be the priest and 



scene i.] As You Like It 8 1 

marry us. Give me your hand, Orlando. What 
do you say, sister? 

Orl. Pray thee, marry us. 

Gel. I cannot say the words. 

Ros. You must begin, " Will you, Orlando — " 

Gel. Go to. Will you, Orlando, have to wife this 130 
Rosalind ? 

Orl. I will. 

Ros. Ay, but when? 

Orl. Why now; as fast as she can marry us. 

Ros. Then you must say, " I take thee, Rosalind, 
for wife." 

Orl. I take thee, Rosalind, for wife. 

Ros. I might ask you for your commission; but I do 
take thee, Orlando, for my husband; there's a 
girl goes before the priest; and certainly a worn- 140 
an's thought runs before her actions. 

Orl. So do all thoughts; they are winged. 

Ros. Now tell me how long you would have her 
after you have possessed her. 

Orl. For ever and a day. 

Ros. Say " a day," without the " ever." No, no, 
Orlando ; men are April when they woo, Decem- 
ber when they wed: maids are May when they 
are maids, but the sky changes when they are 
wives. I will be more jealous of thee than a 150 
Barbary cock-pigeon over his hen, more clamor- 
ous than a parrot against rain, more new-fangled 
than an ape, more giddy in my desires than a 
monkey: I will weep for nothing, like Diana 



82 As You Like It [act iv. 

in the fountain, and I will do that when you 
are. disposed to be merry; I will laugh like a 
hyen, and that when thou art inclined to sleep. 

Orl. But will my Rosalind do so ? 

Ros. By my life, she will do as I do. 

Orl. O, but she is wise. 1 60 

Ros. Or else she could not have the wit to do this: 
the wiser, the waywarder: make the doors upon 
a woman's wit and it will out at the casement ; 
shut that and 't will out at the key-hole; stop 
that, 't will fly with the smoke out at the 
chimney. 

Orl. A man that had a wife with such a wit, he 
might say " Wit, whither wilt? " 

Ros. You shall never take her without her answer, 
unless you take her without her tongue. O, that 
woman that cannot make her fault her hus- 
band's occasion, let her never nurse her child 
herself, for she will breed it like a fool! 

Orl. For these two hours, Rosalind, I will leave 180 
thee. 

Ros. Alas! dear love, I cannot lack thee two 
hours. 

Orl. I must attend the Duke at dinner: by two 
o'clock I will be with thee again. 

Ros. Ay, go your ways, go your ways; I knew what 
you would prove: my friends told me as much, 
and I thought no less: that flattering tongue of 
yours won me; 'tis but one cast away, and so, 
come, death! Two o'clock is your hour? 190 



Scene L] As You Like It 83 

Orl. Ay, sweet Rosalind. 

Ros. By my troth, and in good earnest, and so God 
mend me, and by all pretty oaths that are not 
dangerous, if you break one jot of your promise 
or come one minute behind your hour, I will 
think you the most pathetical break-promise and 
the most hollow lover and the most unworthy 
of her you call Rosalind that may be chosen out 
of the gross band of the unfaithful: therefore 
beware my censure and keep your promise. 200 

Orl. With no less religion than if thou wert indeed 
my Rosalind; so adieu. 

Ros. Well, Time is the old justice that examines all 
such offenders, and let Time try: adieu. 

[Exit Orlando. 

Cel. You have simply misused our sex in your love- 
prate: we must have your doublet and hose 
plucked over your head, and show the world 
what the bird hath done to her own nest. 

Ros. O coz, coz, coz, my pretty little coz, that 

thou didst know how many fathom deep I am in 210 
love! But it cannot be sounded: my affection 
hath an unknown bottom, like the bay of 
Portugal. 

Cel. Or rather, bottomless, that as fast as you pour 
affection in, it runs out. 

Ros. No, that same wicked bastard of Venus that 
was begot of thought, conceived of spleen and 
born of madness, that blind rascally boy that 
abuses every one's eyes because his own are out, 



84 As You Like It [Act iv. 

let him be judge how deep I am in love. I'll tell 220 
thee, Aliena, I cannot be out of the sight of 
Orlando: I'll go find a shadow and sigh till he 
come. 
Cel. And I'll sleep. {Exeunt. 



Scene II 

The forest. 

Enter Jaques, Lords, and Foresters. 

Jaq. Which is he that killed the deer? 

A Lord. Sir, it was I. 

Jaq. Let's present him to the Duke, like a Roman 
conqueror; and it would do well to set the 
deer's horns upon his head, for a branch of 
victory. Have you no song, forester, for this 
purpose ? 

For. Yes, sir. 

Jaq. Sing it: 't is no matter how it be in tune, so 

it make noise enough. IO 

Song. 

For. What shall he have that killed the deer? 
His leather skin and horns to wear. 
Then sing him home; the rest shall 
bear this burden. 



Scene III.] As YoU Like It 85 

Take thou no scorn to wear the horn: 
It was a crest ere thou wast born. 

Thy father's father wore it, 

And thy father bore it: 
The horn, the horn, the lusty horn 

Is not a thing to laugh to scorn. [Exeunt. 



Scene III 

The forest. 

Enter Rosalind and Celia. 

Ros. How say you now ? Is it not past two o'clock ? 
and here much Orlando! 

Cel. I warrant you, with pure love and troubled 
brain, he hath ta'en his bow and arrows and is 
gone forth to sleep. Look, who comes here. 

Enter Silvius. 

Sil. My errand is to you, fair youth ; 

My gentle Phebe bid me give you this : 

I know not the contents; but, as I guess 

By the stern brow and waspish action 

Which she did use as she was writing of it, 10 

It bears an angry tenor: pardon me; 

I am but as a guiltless messenger. 

Ros. Patience herself would startle at this letter 
And play the swaggerer; bear this, bear all: 



86 As You Like It [act iv. 

She says I am not fair, that I lack manners; 

She calls me proud, and that she could not love me, 

Were man as rare as phoenix. 'Od's my will ! 

Her love is not the hare that I do hunt: 

Why writes she so to me? Well, shepherd, well. 

This is a letter of your own device. 20 

Sil. No, I protest, I know not the contents: 
Phebe did write it. 

Ros. Come, come, you are a fool 

And turned into the extremity of love. 
I saw her hand: she has a leathern hand, 
A freestone-colored hand; I verily did think 
That her old gloves were on, but 'twas her hands: 
She has a housewife's hand; but that's no matter: 
I say she never did invent this letter; 
This is a man's invention and his hand. 

Sil. Sure, it is hers. 30 

Ros. Why, 'tis a boisterous and a cruel style, 
A style for challengers; why, she defies me, 
Like Turk to Christian: woman's gentle brain 
Could not drop forth such giant-rude invention, 
Such Ethiope words, blacker in their effect 
Than in their countenance. Will you hear the 
letter? 

Sil. So please you, for I never heard it yet; 
Yet heard too much of Phebe's cruelty. 

Ros. She Phebes me: mark how the tyrant writes. 

[Reads.] Art thou god to shepherd turned, 4® 

That a maiden's heart hath burned? 



Scene III.] As You Like It 87 

Can a woman rail thus? 

Sil. Call you this railing? 

Ros. [Reads.] 

Why, thy godhead laid apart, 
Warr'st thou with a woman's heart? 

Did you ever hear such railing? 

Whiles the eye of man did woo me, 
That could do no vengeance to me. 

Meaning me a beast. 

If the scorn of your bright eyne 5° 

Have power to raise such love in mine, 

Alack, in me what strange effect 

Would they work in mild aspect ! 

Whiles you chid me, I did love; 

How then might your prayers move ! 

He that brings this love to thee 

Little knows this love in me: 

And by him seal up thy mind; 

Whether that thy youth and kind 

Will the faithful offer take 60 

Of me and all that I can make; 

Or else by him my love deny, 

And then I'll study how to die. 

Sil. Call you this chiding ? 

Cel. Alas, poor shepherd! 

Ros. Do you pity him? no, he deserves no pity. Wilt 
thou love such a woman ? What, to make thee 
an instrument and play false strains upon thee! 
not to be endured! Well, go your way to her, 
for I see -love hath made thee a tame snake, and 7° 



88 As You Like It [act iv. 

say this to her: that if she love me, I charge 
her to love thee; if she will not, I will never 
have her unless thou entreat for her. If you be 
a true lover, hence, and not a word; for here 
comes more company. [Exit Silvius. 

Enter Oliver. 

OIL Good morrow, fair ones: pray you, if you know, 
Where in the purlieus of this forest stands 
A sheep-cote fenced about with olive-trees? 

Cel. West of this place, down in the neighbor bottom: 
The rank of osiers by the murmuring stream 80 
Left on your right hand brings you to the place. 
But at this hour the house doth keep itself; 
There's none within. 

OIL If that an eye may profit by a tongue, 
Then should I know you by description; 
Such garments and such years: " The boy is fair, 
Of female favor, and bestows himself 
Like a ripe sister : the woman low, 
And browner than her brother." Are not you 
The owner of the house I did inquire for? 90 

Cel. It is no boast, being asked, to say we are. 

OIL Orlando doth commend him to you both, 
And to that youth he calls his Rosalind 
He sends this bloody napkin. Are you he? 

Ros. I am: what must we understand by this? 

OIL Some of my shame; if you will know of me 
What man I am, and how, and why, and where 



Scene III.] As You Like It 89 

This handkerchief was stained. 

Cel. I pray you, tell it. 

OH. When last the young Orlando parted from you 
He left a promise to return again 100 

Within an hour; and pacing through the forest, 
Chewing the food of sweet and bitter fancy, 
Lo, what befel ! He threw his eye aside, 
And mark what object did present itself: 
Under an oak, whose boughs were mossed with age 
And high top bald with dry antiquity, 
A wretched ragged man, o'ergrown with hair, 
Lay sleeping on his back; about his neck 
A green and gilded snake had wreathed itself, 
Who, with her head nimble in threats, approached no 
The opening of his mouth; but suddenly, 
Seeing Orlando, it unlinked itself, 
And with indented glides did slip away 
Into a bush: under which bush's shade 
A lioness, with udders all drawn dry, 
Lay couching, head on ground, with catlike watch, 
When that the sleeping man should stir; for 'tis 
The royal disposition of that beast 
To prey on nothing that doth seem as dead: 
This seen, Orlando did approach the man 120 

And found it was his brother, his elder brother. 

Cel. O, I have heard him speak of that same brother; 
And he did render him the most unnatural 
That lived amongst men. 

OH. And well he might so do, 

For well I know he was unnatural. 



90 As You Like It [act iv. 

Ros. But, to Orlando: did he leave him there, 
Food to the sucked and hungry lioness? 

OH. Twice did he turn his back and purposed so; 
But kindness, nobler ever than revenge, 
And nature, stronger than his just occasion, 130 
Made him give battle to the lioness, 
Who quickly fell before him : in which hurtling 
From miserable slumber I awaked. 

Cel. Are you his brother? 

Ros. Was 't you he rescued? 

Cel. Was 't you that did so oft contrive to kill him? 

OH. 'Twas I : but 'tis not I : I do not shame 
To tell you what I was, since my conversion 
So sweetly tastes, being the thing I am. 

Ros. But, for the bloody napkin? 

OH. By and by. 

When from the first to last betwixt us two 140 

Tears our recountments had most kindly bathed, 

As how I came into that desert place; — 

In brief, he led me to the gentle Duke, 

Who gave me fresh array and entertainment, 

Committing me unto my brother's love ; 

Who led me instantly unto his cave, 

There stripped himself, and here upon his arm 

The lioness had torn some flesh away, 

Which all this while had bled ; and now he fainted 

And cried, in fainting, upon Rosalind. 150 

Brief, I recovered him, bound up his wound ; 

And, after some small space, being strong at heart, 

He sent me hither, stranger as I am, 



scene in.] As You Like It 9 1 

To tell this story, that you might excuse 
His broken promise, and to give this napkin 
Dyed in his blood unto the shepherd youth 
That he in sport doth call his Rosalind. 

[Rosalind swoons. 

Cel. Why, how now, Ganymede! sweet Ganymede! 

Oli. Many will swoon when they do look on blood. 

Cel. There is more in it. Cousin Ganymede! 160 

OIL Look, he recovers. 

Ros. I would I were at home. 

Cel. We'll lead you thither. 

I pray you, will you take him by the arm? 

Oli. Be of good cheer, youth; you a man! you lack a 
man's heart. 

Ros. I do so, I confess it. Ah, sirrah, a body would 
think this was well counterfeited! I pray you, 
tell your brother how well I counterfeited. 
Heigh-ho ! 

Oli. This was not counterfeit: there is too great 170 
testimony in your complexion that it was a pas- 
sion of earnest. 

Ros. Counterfeit, I assure you. 

Oli. Well then, take a good heart and counterfeit 
to be a man. 

Ros. So I do: but, i' faith, I should have been a 
woman by right. 

Cel. Come, you look paler and paler: pray you, draw 
homewards. Good sir, go with us. 

OIL That will I, for I must bear answer back 180 

How you excuse my brother, Rosalind. 



92 As You Like It [act v. 

Ros. I shall devise something: but, I pray you, com- 
mend my counterfeiting to him. Will you go? 

[Exeunt. 



ACT FIFTH 

Scene I 

The forest. 

Enter Touchstone and Audrey. 

Touch. We shall find a time, Audrey; patience, 

gentle Audrey. 
Aud. Faith, the priest was good enough, for all 

the old gentleman's saying. 
Touch. A most wicked Sir Oliver, Audrey, a most 

vile Martext. But, Audrey, there is a youth 

here in the forest lays claim to you. 
Aud. Ay, I know who 'tis: he hath no interest in 

me in the world: here comes the man you 

mean. 10 

Touch. It is meat and drink to me to see a clown: 

by my troth, we that have good wits have much 

to answer for; we shall be flouting; we cannot 

hold. 

Enter Willi am. 

Will. Good even, Audrey. 

Aud. God ye good even, William. 



scene I.] As You Like It 93 

Will. And good even to you, sir. 

Touch. Good even, gentle friend. Cover thy head, 
cover thy head; nay, prithee, be covered. How 
old are you, friend ? 20 

Will. Five and twenty, sir. 

Touch. A ripe age. Is thy name William? 

Will. William, sir. 

Touch. A fair name. Wast born i' the forest 
here? 

Will. Ay, sir, I thank God. 

Touch. "Thank God;" a good answer. Art rich? 

Will. Faith, sir, so so. 

Touch. "So so" is good, very good, very excellent 

good ; and yet it is not ; it is but so so. Art thou 30 
wise ? 

Will. Ay, sir, I have a pretty wit. 

Touch. Why, thou sayest well. I do now remember 
a saying, "The fool doth think he is wise, but 
the wise man knows himself to be a fool." The 
heathen philosopher, when he had a desire to eat 
a grape, would open his lips when he put it into 
his mouth; meaning thereby that grapes were 
made to eat and lips to open. You do love this 
maid ? 40 

Will. I do, sir. 

Touch. Give me your hand. Art thou learned? 

Will. No, sir. 

Touch. Then learn this of me: to have, is to have; 
for it is a figure in rhetoric that drink, being 
poured out of a cup into a glass by filling the 



94 As You Like It [act v. 

one doth empty the other; for all your writers 
do consent that ipse is he; now, you are not 
ipse, for I am he. 

Will. Which he, sir? 50 

Touch. He, sir, that must marry this woman. There- 
fore, you clown, abandon, which is in the vulgar 
leave, — the society, — which in the boorish is com- 
pany, — of this female, — which in the common 
is woman ; which together is, abandon the society 
of this female, or, clown, thou perishest; or, to 
thy better understanding, diest; or, to wit, I 
kill thee, make thee away, translate thy life into 
death, thy liberty into bondage: I will deal in 
poison with thee, or in bastinado, or in steel; 60 
I will bandy with thee in faction ; I will o'er-run 
thee with policy; I will kill thee a hundred and 
fifty ways: therefore tremble, and depart. 

Aud. Do, good William. 

Will. God rest you merry, sir. [Exit. 

Enter Corin. 

Cor. Our master and mistress seeks you; come, 

away, away! 

Touch. Trip, Audrey! trip, Audrey! I attend, I 

attend. [Exeunt. 



scene ii.] As You Like It 95 

Scene II 

The forest. 

Enter Orlando and Oliver. 

Orl. Is 't possible that on so little acquaintance you 
should like her? that but seeing, you should 
love her? and loving woo? and, wooing, she 
should grant? and will you persever to enjoy 
her? 

Oli. Neither call the giddiness of it in question, the 
poverty of her, the small acquaintance, my sud- 
den wooing, nor her sudden consenting ; but say 
with me, I love Aliena; say with her that she 
loves me; consent with both that we may enjoy 10 
each other : it shall be to your good ; for my 
father's house and all the revenue that was old 
Sir Rowland's will I estate upon you and here 
live and die a shepherd. 

Orl. You have my consent. Let your wedding be 
to-morrow; thither will I invite the Duke and 
all's contented followers. Go you and pre- 
pare Aliena; for look you, here comes my 
Rosalind. 

Enter Rosalind. 

Ros. God save you, brother. 20 

Oli. And you, fair sister. [Exit. 



96 As You Like It [Act v. 

Ros. O, my dear Orlando, how it grieves me to see 
thee wear thy heart in a scarf ! 

Orl. It is my arm. 

Ros. I thought thy heart had been wounded with 
the claws of a lion. 

Orl. Wounded it is, but with the eyes of a lady. 

Ros. Did your brother tell you how I counter- 
feited to swoon when he showed me your 
handkercher ? 30 

Orl. Ay, and greater wonders than that. 

Ros. O, I know where you are: nay, 'tis true: there 
was never any thing so sudden but the fight of 
two rams and Caesar's thrasonical brag of " I 
came, saw, and overcame:" for your brother 
and my sister no sooner met but they looked, no 
sooner looked but they loved, no sooner loved 
but they sighed, no sooner sighed but they asked 
one another the reason, no sooner knew the rea- 
son but they sought the remedy; and in these 40 
degrees have they made a pair of stairs to mar- 
riage, which they will climb incontinent: they 
are in the very wrath of love and they will 
together; clubs cannot part them. 

Orl. They shall be married to-morrow, and I will 
bid the Duke to the nuptial. But, O, how bitter 
a thing it is to look into happiness through an- 
other man's eyes ! By so much the more shall I 
to-morrow be at the height of heart-heaviness, 50 
by how much I shall think my brother happy in 
having what he wishes for. 



scene it.] As You Like It 97 

Ros. Why then, to-morrow I cannot serve your turn 
for Rosalind? 

Orl. I can live no longer by thinking. 

Ros. I will weary you then no longer with idle talk- 
ing. Know of me then, for now I speak to some 
purpose, that I know you are a gentleman of 
good conceit: I speak not this that you should 
bear a good opinion of my knowledge, insomuch 60 
I say I know you are; neither do I labor for a 
greater esteem than may in some little measure 
draw a belief from you, to do yourself good, and 
not to grace me. Believe then, if you please, 
that I can do strange things : I have, since I was 
three year old, conversed with a magician, most 
profound in his art and yet not damnable. 
If you do love Rosalind so near the heart as 
your gesture cries it out, when your brother 
marries Aliena, shall you marry her: I know 70 
into what straits of fortune she is driven ; and it 
is not impossible to me, if it appear not incon- 
venient to you, to set her before your eyes 
to-morrow, human as she is and without any 
danger. 

Orl. Speakest thou in sober meanings? 

Ros. By my life, I do ; which I tender dearly, though 
I say I am a magician. Therefore, put you in 
your best array ; bid your friends ; for if you will 
be married to-morrow, you shall, and to Rosa- 80 
lind, if you will. 



98 As You Like It [Act v. 

Enter Silvius and Phebe. 

Look, here comes a lover of mine and a lover of hers. 
Phe. Youth, you have done me much ungentleness, 

To show the letter that I writ to you. 
Ros. I care not if I have: it is my study 

To seem despiteful and ungentle to you: 

You are there followed by a faithful shepherd; 

Look upon him, love him; he worships you. 
Phe. Good shepherd, tell this youth what 'tis to love. 
Sil. It is to be all made of sighs and tears; 90 

And so am I for Phebe. 
Phe. And I for Ganymede. 
Orl. And I for Rosalind. 
Ros. And I for no woman. 
Sil. It is to be all made of faith and service ; 

And so am I for Phebe. 
Phe. And I for Ganymede. 
Orl. And I for Rosalind. 
Ros. And I for no woman. 
Sil. It is to be all made of fantasy, 100 

All made of passion and all made of wishes. 

All adoration, duty, and observance, 

All humbleness, all patience and impatience, 

All purity, all trial, all observance; 

And so am I for Phebe. 
Phe. And so am I for Ganymede. 
Orl. And so am I for Rosalind. 
Ros. And so am I for no woman. 



scene il] As You Like It 99 

Phe. If this be so, why blame you me to love 

you? no 

Sil. If this be so, why blame you me to love 
you? 

Orl. If this be so, why blame you me to love 
you? 

Ros. Who do you speak to, " Why blame you me to 
love you? " 

Orl. To her that is not here, nor doth not hear. 

Ros. Pray you, no more of this; 'tis like the howl- 
ing of Irish wolves against the moon. [To Sil.] 
I will help you, if I can: [To Phe.] I would 120 
love you, if I could. To-morrow meet me all 
together. [To Phe.] I will marry you, if ever 
I marry woman, and I'll be married to-morrow: 
[To Orl.] I will satisfy you, if ever I satisfied 
man, and you shall be married to-morrow: 
[To Sil.] I will content you, if what pleases 
you contents you, and you shall be married to- 
morrow. [To Orl.] As you love Rosalind, 
meet: [To Sil.] as you love Phebe, meet: and as 
I love no woman, I'll meet. So fare you well: 130 
I have left you commands. 

Sil. I'll not fail, if I live. 

Phe. Nor I. 

Orl. Nor I. [Exeunt. 



ioo As You Like It [act v 

Scene III 

The forest. 

Enter Touchstone and Audrey. 

Touch. To-morrow is the joyful day, Audrey: to- 
morrow will we be married. 

Aud. I do desire it with all my heart; and I hope it 
is no dishonest desire to desire to be a woman of 
the world. Here come two of the banished 
Duke's pages. 

Enter two Pages. 

First Page. Well met, honest gentleman. 

Touch. By my troth, well met. Come, sit, sit, and 
a song. 

Sec. Page. We are for you: sit i' the middle. 10 

First Page. Shall we clap into 't roundly, with- 
out hawking or spitting or saying we are 
hoarse, which are the only prologues to a bad 
voice? 

Sec. Page. V faith, i' faith; and both in a tune, like 
two gipsies on a horse. 

Song. 

It was a lover and his lass, 

With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino, 



Scene III.] 



As You Like It 101 



That o'er the green corn-field did pass 

In the spring time, the only pretty ring time, 20 

When birds do sing, hey ding a ding, ding: 

Sweet lovers love the spring. 

Between the acres of the rye, 

With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino, 

These pretty country folks would lie, 
In spring time, etc. 

This carol they began that hour, 

With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino, 

How that a life was but a flower 

In spring time, etc. ,3^ 

And therefore take the present time, 

With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino; 

For love is crowned with the prime 
In spring time, etc. 

Touch. Truly, young gentlemen, though there was 

no great matter in the ditty, yet the note was 

very untuneable. 
First Page. You are deceived, sir: we kept time, we 

lost not our time. 
Touch. By my troth, yes; I count it but time lost 40 

to hear such a foolish song. God b' wi' you; 

and God mend your voices! Come, Audrey. 

[Exeunt. 



102 As You Like It [Act v. 



Scene IV 

The forest. 

Enter Duke senior, Amiens, Jaques, Orlando, 
Oliver, and Celia. 

Duke S. Dost thou believe, Orlando, that the boy 
Can do all this that he hath promise'd? 

Orl. I sometimes do believe, and sometimes do not; 

As those that fear they hope, and know they fear. 

Enter Rosalind, Silvius, and Phebe. 

Ros. Patience once more, whiles our compact is urged: 
You say, if I bring in your Rosalind, 
You will bestow her on Orlando here? 

Duke S. That would I, had I kingdoms to give with her. 

Ros. And you say, you will have her, when I bring her? 

Orl. That would I, were I of all kingdoms king. 10 

Ros. You say, you'll marry me, if I be willing? 

Phe. That will I, should I die the hour after. 

Ros. But if you do refuse to marry me, 

You'll give yourself to this most faithful shepherd? 

Phe. So is the bargain. 

Ros. You say that you'll have Phebe, if she will ? 

Sil. Though to have her and death were both one thing. 

Ros. I have promised to make all this matter even. 



Scene IV.] As You Like It IO3 

Keep you your word, O Duke, to give your 

daughter : 
You yours, Orlando, to receive his daughter; 20 
Keep your word, Phebe, that you'll marry me, 
Or else refusing me, to wed this shepherd ; 
Keep your word, Silvius, that you'll" marry her, 
If she refuse me : and from hence I go, 
To make these doubts all even. 

[Exeunt Rosalind and Celia. 

Duke S. I do remember in this shepherd boy 
Some lively touches of my daughter's favor. 

Orl. My lord, the first time that I ever saw him 
Methought he was a brother to your daughter. 
But, my good lord, this boy is forest-born, 30 

And hath been tutored in the rudiments 
Of many desperate studies by his uncle, 
Whom he reports to be a great magician, 
Obscured in the circle of this forest. 

Enter Touchstone and Audrey. 

Jaq. There is, sure, another flood toward, and these 
couples are coming to the ark. Here comes a 
pair of very strange beasts, which in all tongues 
are called fools. 

Touch. Salutation and greeting to you all! 

Jaq. Good my lord, bid him welcome: this is the 40 
motley-minded gentleman that I have so often 
met in the forest; he hath been a courtier, he 
swears. 



104 As You Like It [act v. 

Touch. If any man doubt that, let him put me to 
my purgation. I have trod a measure; I have 
flattered a lady; I have been politic with my 
friend, smooth with mine enemy; I have undone 
three tailors; I have had four quarrels, and like 
to have fought one. 

Jaq. And how was that ta'en up? 50 

Touch. Faith, we met, and found the quarrel was 
upon the seventh cause. 

Jaq. How seventh cause? Good my lord, like this 
fellow. 

Duke S. I like him very well. 

Touch. God 'ild you, sir; I desire you of the like. 
I press in here, sir, amongst the rest of the coun- 
try copulatives, to swear and to forswear; 
according as marriage binds and blood breaks. 
A poor virgin, sir, an ill-favored thing, sir, but 60 
mine own; a poor humor of mine, sir, to take 
that that no man else will: rich honesty dwells 
like a miser, sir, in a poor house, as your pearl 
in your foul oyster. 

Duke S. By my faith, he is very swift and senten- 
tious. 

Touch. According to the fool's bolt, sir, and such 
dulcet diseases. 

Jaq. But, for the seventh cause; how did you find 

the quarrel on the seventh cause? 7° 

Touch. Upon a lie seven times removed: — bear your 
body more seeming, Audrey: — as thus, sir. I 
did dislike the cut of a certain courtier's beard: 



Scene IV.J As You Like It IO5 

he sent me word, if I said his beard was not cut 
well, he was in the mind it was: this is called 
the Retort Courteous. If I sent him word 
again " it was not well cut," he would send me 
word, he cut it to please himself; this is called 
the Quip Modest. If again " it was not well 
cut," he disabled my judgment: this is called the 80 
Reply Churlish. If again " it was not well 
cut," he would answer, I spake not true: this is 
called the Reproof Valiant. If again " it was 
not well cut," he would say, I lied: this is called 
the Countercheck Quarrelsome: and so to the 
Lie Circumstantial and the Lie Direct. 

Jaq. And how oft did you say his beard was not 
well cut? 

Touch. I durst go no further than the Lie Circum- 
stantial, nor he durst not give me the Lie Direct ; 90 
and so we measured swords and parted. 

Jaq. Can you nominate in order now the degrees of 
the lie? 

Touch. O sir, we quarrel in print, by the book; as 
you have books for good manners. I will name 
you the degrees. The first, the Retort Courte- 
ous; the second, the Quip Modest; the third, the 
Reply Churlish; the fourth, the Reproof 
Valiant; the fifth, the Countercheck Quarrel- 
some; the sixth, the Lie with Circumstance; the 100 
seventh, the Lie Direct. All these you may 
avoid but the Lie Direct; and you may avoid 
that too, with an If. I knew when seven justices 



106 As You Like It [Act v. 

could not take up a quarrel, but when the 
parties were met themselves, one of them 
thought but of an If, as " If you said so, then I 
said so;" and they shook hands and swore 
brothers. Your If is the only peacemaker; much 
virtue in If. 

Jag. Is not this a rare fellow, my lord? he's as good no 
at any thing and yet a fool. 

Duke S. He uses his folly like a stalking-horse and 
under the presentation of that he shoots his wit. 

Enter Hymen, Rosalind and Celia. 

Still Music. 

Hym. Then is there mirth in heaven, 
When earthly things made even 

Atone together. 
Good Duke, receive thy daughter: 
Hymen from heaven brought her, 

Yea, brought her hither, 
That thou mightst join her hand with his 120 
Whose heart within his bosom is. 
Ros. [To Duke.] To you I give myself for I am 
yours. 

[To OrL] To you I give myself for I am yours. 
Duke S. If there be truth in sight, you are my 

daughter. 
OrL If there be truth in sight, you are my Rosalind. 
Phe. If sight and shape be true, 



Scene IV.] As You Like It IO7 

Why then, my love, adieu! 
Ros. I'll have no father, if you be not he: 
I'll have no husband, if you be not he: 
Nor ne'er wed woman, if you be not she. 130 

Hym. Peace, ho! I bar confusion: 

'Tis I must make conclusion 

Of these most strange events. 

Here's eight that must take hands 

To join in Hymen's bands, 

If truth holds true contents. 

You and you no cross shall part: 

You and you are heart in heart: 

You to his love must accord, 

Or have a woman to your lord: 140 

You and you are sure together, 

As the winter to foul weather. 

Whiles a wedlock-hymn we sing, 

Feed yourselves with questioning ; 

That reason wonder may diminish, 

How thus we met, and these things finish. 

Song. 

Wedding is great Juno's crown: 
O blessed bond of board and bed! 
'Tis Hymen peoples every town; 

High wedlock then be honored: ICO 

Honor, high honor and renown, 

To Hymen, god of every town! 

Duke S. O my dear niece, welcome thou art to me ! 
Even daughter, welcome, in no less degree. 



108 As You Like It [Act v. 

Phe. I will not eat my word. [To Silvius.] Now 
thou art mine; 
Thy faith my fancy to thee doth combine. 

Enter Jaques de Boys. 

Jaq. de B. Let me have audience for a word or two : 
I am the second son of old Sir Rowland, 
That bring these tidings to this fair assembly. 
Duke Frederick, hearing how that every day 160 
Men of great worth resorted to this forest, 
Addressed a mighty power; which were on foot, 
In his own conduct, purposely to take 
His brother here and put him to the sword: 
And to the skirts of this wild wood he came ; 
Where meeting with an old religious man, 
After some question with him, was converted 
Both from his enterprise and from the world, 
His crown bequeathing to his banished brother, 
And all their lands restored to them again 170 

That were with him exiled. This to be true, 
I do engage my life. 

Duke S. Welcome, young man ; 

Thou offerest fairly to thy brother's wedding; 
To one his lands withheld, and to the other 
A land itself at large, a potent dukedom. 
First, in this forest let us do those ends 
That here were well begun and well begot: 
And after, every of this happy number 
That have endured shrewd days and nights with us 



Scene IV.J As You Like It IO9 

Shall share the good of our returned fortune, 180 

According to the measure of their states. 

Meanwhile, forget this new-fall'n dignity 

And fall into our rustic revelry. 

Play, music! And you, brides and bridegrooms all, 

With measure heaped in joy, to the measures fall. 
Jaq. Sir, by your patience. — If I heard you rightly, 

The Duke hath put on a religious life 

And thrown into neglect the pompous court? 
Jaq. de B. He hath. 
Jaq. To him will I: out of these convertites 190 

There is much matter to be heard and learned. 
[To Duke.] You to your former honor I bequeath; 

Your patience and your virtue well deserves it: 
[To Orl.] You to a love that your true faith doth 

merit: 
[To OH.] You to your land and love and great 

allies : 
[To Sil.] You to a long and well deserved bed: 
[To Touch.] And you to wrangling; for thy loving 
voyage 

Is but for two months victualled. So, to your 
pleasures : 

I am for other than for dancing measures. 
Duke S. Stay, Jaques, stay. 200 

Jaq. To see no pastime I: what you would have 

I'll stay to know at your abandoned cave. [Exit. 

Duke S. Proceed, proceed: we will begin these rites, 

As we do trust they'll end, in true delights. 

[A dance. 



no As You Like It [epilogue 

EPILOGUE. 

Ros. It is not the fashion to see the lady the epilogue; 
but it is no more unhandsome than to see the 
lord the prologue. If it be true that good wine 
needs no bush, 'tis true that a good play needs 
no epilogue; yet to good wine they do use good 
bushes, and good plays prove the better by the 
help of good epilogues. What a case am I in 
then, that am neither a good epilogue nor can- 
not insinuate with you in the behalf of a good 
play! I am not furnished like a beggar, there- 10 
fore to beg will not become me: my way is to 
conjure you; and I'll begin with the women. I 
charge you, O women, for the love you bear to 
men, to like as much of this play as please you: 
and I charge you, O men, for the love you bear 
to women — as I perceive by your simpering, 
none of you hates them — that between you and 
the women the play may please. If I were a 
woman I would kiss as many of you as had 
beards that pleased me, complexions that liked 20 
me and breaths that I defied not: and, I am sure, 
as many as have good beards or good faces or 
sweet breaths will, for my kind offer, when I 
make curtsy, bid me farewell. [Exeunt. 



NOTES AND COMMENT 



NOTES AND COMMENT 

As You Like It was written, not to be read, but to be acted. 
Its first performance was no doubt superintended by Shakespeare 
himself, and there is a credible tradition that he played the part 
of Adam. The stage directions, even when supplemented by sub- 
sequent editors, are scantier than they would be in a play 
published by a modern author, and the demand made upon the 
reader's imagination is proportionately greater. 

A play in any case requires closer attention from the reader 
than a novel, for the latter brings in narrative and description 
to the aid of the dialogue. And yet in a novel the most vivid and 
lifelike scenes are those in which we hear the characters speak, 
as well as learn from the author what happens to them and 
where the incident takes place. This is because, in real life, next 
to action it is conversation which most reveals people. 

You have, perhaps, an acquaintance of whose life you see 
nothing except at school. Aside from what he does there, you 
form your opinion of him chiefly from (i) what he says, — 
especially in regard to some subject in which he is greatly 
interested, or on some important occasion. You learn much, too, 
from (2) what his schoolmates in conversation say to him, for 
this shows the immediate effect of his words on them ; and from 
(3) what they say about him. Of course in the case of (2) and 
(3) y° u have to take into consideration the aims and feelings 
of the speakers. But the point is that in these three ways you 
come to know the character of this acquaintance and to form an 
idea of the life he leads out of school. 

In a similar manner we get to know Orlando, Rosalind, and the 
other personages of the play and their life-stories. For we no 
more believe that they cease to exist between scenes, than that 
our school-fellows have no life outside of school. This is be- 
cause in Shakespeare's wonderful mind his people have indeed 

"3 



H4 Notes and Comment 

a real existence and a complete story ; and because from that story 
he chooses for us the most significant scenes — those in which 
the personages most reveal themselves in their talk. 

But written talk makes a special demand on the reader. Sup- 
pose it were possible for you simply to read, instead of hear, 
the talk of your schoolmates; to interpret their personalities from 
it you would have to exert your imagination strongly. Now, in 
a novel most of the interpretation is done for us by the author; 
and by simply reading a novel through, we can get a great deal 
out of it. But As You Like It we need to read often and slowly, 
letting our imagination dwell on the conversation, and supplying 
for ourselves what a novelist would narrate and describe. And 
so wonderful is this conversation that the more we think upon it, 
the more we find in it. 

To sum up, in reading the speeches be alert for suggestions 
as to: (i) what there is to be seen and heard, — the actions, 
looks, and tones of the people, and the scenes in which they 
move; (2) their states of mind; (3) what they think of each 
other; (4) what happens to them behind the scenes. With 
these suggestions in mind, read the play at least once without 
making any considerable use of the Notes and Comment. You 
will enjoy the story much more if you secure your own ideas 
of it first and then compare them with those of the editor; and 
further, you cannot get the full significance of each scene unless 
you have in mind a general conception of the whole play. 

When you come to study each scene more closely, do not turn 
to the Notes and Comment until you reach a natural stopping- 
place; that is, where there is a distinct change of subject, or 
where some important person or persons enter or leave the scene. 
In the case of the longer scenes, a good point at which to pause, 
near the middle, is indicated by the headings given in the Notes 
and Comment; in Scene i, for instance, at the exit of Orlando at 
line 89. The Notes explain the more difficult expressions and 
give suggestions as to the four points just mentioned; but they are 
intended to stimulate the imagination, not to relieve it from 
necessary effort. 

One would miss the chief charm of As You Like It, however, 
if one were to study it simply as a realistic copy of human 
life. It is an expression of the mind of a great poet. The 



Notes and Comment 115 

poetic conception which underlies the whole is dealt with in 
the Introduction, on pages xxii-xxiii. Essentially true to life 
as the characters are, they are far from being ordinary people, 
and their language transcends that of everyday life. More than 
half of the play, indeed — namely, the passages in which the 
tone is more conversational than the rest — is written in prose ; 
but this is of the same high quality as the verse. The prose is 
full of poetic force and is often quite rhythmical ; see for instance 
the speech of Charles: They say . . . golden world (I, i, 120- 
125). Two closely allied qualities which the prose possesses in 
common with the verse are worthy of special attention. (1) Con- 
densation ; a great deal of meaning is often packed into a few 
pregnant words. (2) Concreteness ; the poet's mind deals not so 
much with abstract generalities which appeal solely to our intel- 
lect as with concrete particulars which appeal to our senses. 
In everyday language, for instance, we might say of a success- 
ful student at the university: "It is reported that he is making 
excellent progress in his studies". In contrast to this, observe the 
condensation and concreteness of the language in which Orlando 
expresses the thought: Report speaks goldenly of his profit (I, i, 
6). It can be seen that these two qualities demand a constant 
alertness of thought and imagination on the part of the reader 
who would appreciate the full force and beauty of Shakespeare's 
expression. 

In the passages the tone of which is more decidedly poetic 
(ceremonious, emotional, or imaginative), the prose rises into 
blank verse; see, for instance, I, ii, 236-301 and I, iii, 43-140. 
Blank verse differs from prose in having a regular rhythm, that 
is, meter; it falls into lines each of which (with a few excep- 
tions) has five metric stresses. The theoretic form which underlies 
this kind of verse is a line of five feet, each containing two 
syllables on the second of which falls the stress or accent (called, 
for that reason, rising accent). A line may therefore be scanned 
as follows: — 

/ r f J t 

Hath not | old cus | torn made | this life | more sweet 

(II, i, 2). 

If blank verse were read according to this form, however, the 

result would be ridiculously monotonous. As a matter of fact, 



n6 Notes and Comment 

the (i) metric accentuation which has just been illustrated is only 
lightly superimposed upon, and does not submerge, the (2) 
sense-accentuation, — that which, just as in prose, arises from the 
ordinary pronunciation and significance of the Individual words. 
In the following verses, the effect of the combination of these 
two kinds of accentuation is illustrated. Of course, the many 
very delicate shades of difference between the stresses cannot be 
indicated on paper; indeed, they vary to some extent according 
to the taste of the reader. But three grades of stress may be 

roughly distinguished: strong (now) ; weak (in) ; and a stress 
spread somewhat equally over two syllables with, as a rule, rather 



more emphasis on the second (this life). 

t t '■■*:/ 

Now my co-mates and brothers in exile 

t t 



Hath not old custom made this life more sweet 

t 



Than that of painted pomp ? Are not these woods 



More free from peril than the envious court? 



Here feel we but the penalty of Adam (II, i, 1-5). 

Observe now how the single line scanned above appears in its 
context (line 2). Hath and not are both unimportant in the 
sense and share a weak accent. Old is as important as custom: 
the two words render together a single, strong idea. This re- 
quires almost as much stress as life because this life is being 
thrown into contrast with that of painted pomp in the next line; 
for the same reason more is emphatic. The metric stresses in line 
2 are thus not so sharply marked as those in line 1 ; and the even 
flow of the rhythm helps to express the sweet quiet on which the 
speaker is dwelling. But in the passage as a whole observe that 
as a rule a certain amount of stress falls on every second syllable, 
and that the predominating effect is therefore that of five-stress, 
rising rhythm. Sometimes, however, the stress is thrown entirely 
on the first syllable of a foot; in Now my (line 1), none of the 
stress can be placed on my. Such feet are very common and 



Notes and Comment 117 

lend variety and force to the style. If one wishes to emphasize 

Here (line 5) in contrast to the envious court, such a foot will 

t t m t 

result {Here feel). See also Sweet are (line 12), ugly (line 13), 

t t 

books in (line 16), Sermons (line 17), etc. Nor does the number 

of syllables in a line — usually ten, as explained above — remain 
constant. Unstressed ones are occasionally omitted and occa- 
sionally added. When one is added at the end of a verse, so 
that this closes in falling rhythm, the result is what is called a 
feminine ending; for example: 

t 
That would I, had I kingdoms to give with | her (V, iv, 8). 

Observe the peculiar softness which such an ending imparts to 
the rhythm; see note on V, iv, 8. One is apt to miss the rhythm 
where the close of one speech forms a verse with the beginning 
of the next; such cases are indicated by the printing: 

Augment | ing it | with tears | 

But what I said Jaques (II, i, 43). 

Further, in Elizabethan pronunciation words were often accented 
differently from at present. Notice that the meter requires exile 
(II, i, 1) instead of exile; confines (II, i, 24) instead of con- 
fines. The final -ed was more frequently pronounced as a 
separate syllable: forked (II, i, 24), marked (II, i, 41), etc. The 
terminations -ience, -ion and the like are frequently two syllables: 
conditi-on (I, ii, 276), pati-ence (I, iii, 80). 

The Glossary contains: (1) Words that have gone out of com- 
mon use; such as, allottery (I, i, 77), quintain (I, ii, 263). (2) 
Words occurring several times in the play in unusual senses ; 
such as honest (I, ii, 41, etc), envious (I, ii, 253, etc). 

Act I. Scene I. 

THE QUARREL BETWEEN OLIVER AND ORLANDO, lines I-89 

2-3. Bequeathed me . . . charged. As subject of the two 
verbs supply he, i. e., my father; see line 70. My brother: 
Oliver. 

13. Taught their manage: trained. Observe, throughout, 



1 1 8 Notes and Comment [act i. 

what Orlando most feels the need of (not money, nor the affection 
of Oliver). 

19-22. His countenance: his bearing toward me. 
Hinds: farm servants. Mines my gentility with my educa- 
tion: undermines my gentility by the kind of bringing-up he is 
giving me. 

25-27. I will . . . avoid it. Throughout all of his long, 
vehement speech to Adam, Orlando has been leading up to and 
justifying this important resolution. And the speech has conveyed 
to us just enough of the story of the brothers up to the present 
moment to enable us to understand that part of it which we are 
to see. 

31. What make you: what are you doing. In the succeed- 
ing four bitter speeches, notice the punning on make, mar, marry. 

40-42. Shall I keep . . . such penury: an allusion to the 
parable of the Prodigal Son; see Luke xv, verses 12 and 16. 
Notice the difference in tone between this speech of Orlando's 
and his preceding one. What is the effect on Oliver? 

54. Is nearer to his reverence: entitles you to some of the 
respect due to him. The ever-present thought of his father in- 
fluences Orlando in several ways in this scene. 

56-57. Come, come ... in this. Oliver has evidently 
struck at his brother. There is keen irony in elder and young; 
the action with which Orlando accompanies the words may be 
judged from his next speech (line 63). 

65. Thou hast railed on thyself. How has he? 

76. Exercises: occupations. 

86-87. Most true . . . your service. What is the full 
force of the metaphor? Adam speaks just three times; what do 
you now know of him? 

The action of the scene culminates in Orlando's forcible de- 
mand (lines 73-78). Carefully compare this sentence with that 
in lines 22-27 an d account for the differences in tone and content. 



Oliver's plot, lines 90-180 

90-91. Begin you . . . your rankness: Are you begin- 
ning to "act big" toward me? I will cure your overgrowth. 



scene ij Notes and Comment 119 

Notice the two other hints of the scheme which is taking shape 
in Oliver's angry mind (lines 80-82 and 98-99). 

115. To stay: if she had had to stay. 

122. Robin Hood: the famous legendary outlaw who, with 
his band of merry men, frequented the forests of medieval Eng- 
land. He appears in Scott's Ivanhoe. 

124-125. Carelessly: free from care. World: age. We 
gather from the speeches of Charles that the senior duke's 
banishment is quite recent. 

126. What, you etc: Well, you etc. With this casual ques- 
tion, Oliver brings the gossiping Charles to the subject of the 
wrestling; why, eager as he is for revenge, has he not intro- 
duced the subject sooner? 

134. Shall: must, will have to. 

139. Withal: therewith, with the matter. Cf. line 129. 

146. By underhand means: indirectly. Is there any truth, 
or basis of truth, in this and the next sentence? 

149. Of France. Shakespeare occasionally reminds us that 
the scene of the story is France (Cf. I, ii, 104) ; but he mentions 
only one other geographical name, Arden. He wants to keep 
the location vague, since in this play it is of no importance. 

156. Practise: plot. Oliver represents Orlando as having 
his own subtle, vengeful disposition. Can you show, from cer- 
tain details of Orlando's conduct in the orchard, that such is not 
the case? 

162-163. Anatomize: (literally) dissect; completely lay 
bare. As he is: his real nature. 

170. Gamester: (in a contemptuous sense) a frolicsome 
fellow ; also, one who takes part in some athletic sport. Why 
does Oliver apply the term here to Orlando? 

173-174. Noble device: worthy ideas and purposes. Of 
all sorts: by people of all ranks or classes. 

177. Misprised: undervalued. Here Oliver finally lets 
us see a potent external cause of his hatred for his brother. On 
the other hand, he has been quite truthful in saying, "My soul, 
yet I know why, hates nothing more than he" (lines 171-172) ; 
for the main cause is internal: it lies in Oliver's own abnormally 
wilful nature, by the moods of which he is governed. On this 
basis, explain the fact that Oliver is generously educating his 



120 Notes and Comment [Act i. 

brother Jaques (I, i, 5-7), and is yet unwilling to give Orlando 
the "poor" thousand crowns. 

In Scene i, Shakespeare has enlightened us in regard to the 
hero of the play and secured our interest for him on account of 
his attractive personality, his unhappy circumstances, and the 
danger which awaits him. We have learned, too, from the 
budget of court news carried by Charles, something of the 
circumstances of Rosalind, who is to play the most important part 
in the story. 

Act I. Scene II. 

CELIA CHEERS ROSALIND, lines I-I57 

I. Sweet my coz: my sweet cousin. For Coz consult the 
Glossary. 

6. Learn: means here the same as teach. In rrer reply 
Celia catches up the idea of teaching; see line 12. 

II. So: provided that. 

14. So righteously tempered: of such uniformly excellent 
quality. In what connection do we generally use the word 
"tempered" ? 

34-36. Let us sit . . . bestowed equally. The good 
dame's treatment of herself and Rosalind naturally suggests the 
subject to Celia's mind. 

41-42. Honest: virtuous. Makes very ill-favoredly: 
makes very ugly. 

44-45. Fortune reigns ... of Nature. Fortune (i. e-, 
chance) determines what we shall get during life; nature, our 
looks and traits. With Rosalind's distinction in mind, one can 
easily follow the playful reasoning which Rosalind and Celia 
carry on as they watch Touchstone crossing the lawn. 

52. Natural: born fool, idiot. Rosalind of course applies 
the term in jest. 

60-61. Mistress . . . father. Touchstone is Duke Frede- 
rick's professional jester. He is dressed in motley — on his head 
perhaps a hood with cloth asses' ears, and in his hand a bauble. 
He is privileged to talk familiarly to and about his superiors. 
Contrast his salutation to Celia with that rendered by Le Beau, 
the courtier (line 105 below). 



scene iij Notes and Comment 121 

87-88. One . . . loves. Touchstone has humorously with- 
held this fact to provide a strong conclusion for his story. Old: 
used here, as often at the present day, without reference to age. 

91. Taxation: satirizing. 

99-100. As pigeons feed their young. Just how do they? 
And what is the connection between this simile and lines 98, 101, 
102-103 ? 

107. Of what color: of what kind? 

115. Amaze: daze, bewilder (not astonish). How about 
Le Beau's sense of humor? 

131-132. Be it known . . . these presents: the customary 
preamble of bills or public notices ; Rosalind catches up Le 
Beau's last word and puns on it. 

141. Alas! Notice the quick changes in Rosalind's tone — 
at the opening of the scene somewhat serious, then playful, and 
then, just a moment ago, rising almost to boisterousness. 

142-143. But what . . . have lost. Touchstone only twice 
directly addresses Le Beau ; but what would have been the effect 
on the scene if either of them had been present without the 
other ? 

149-150. Broken music: what we call part-music, such as 
that of an orchestra. Rosalind delights in far-fetched fancies; 
see also lines 74, 131 above. 

Why has not Shakespeare put before us the wrestling de- 
scribed by Le Beau? 

Leaving us to imagine what has been happening to the hero 
since the preceding day (see I, i, 179-180), Shakespeare has 
hastened to give us a glimpse of the life of his heroine and 
to show how she comes to be present at the event which is to 
be the turning-point in both their lives. 

THE WRESTLING MATCH, lines I58-30I 

Whenever the scene is crowded, the reader must bear in 
mind, in a general way, the relative positions of the personages. 
One whose speech appears on paper next that of another may 
in reality be at some distance from him — often too far to be 
overheard- At present, roughly speaking, Charles becomes the 
center of one group in the middle of the lawn, and Rosalind 



122 Notes and Comment [act i. 

of another off at one side. Are the first speeches of the Duke 
and Orlando audible to Rosalind? Follow the movements of 
the personages, as indicated, for instance, in lines 163, 174, 177. 

160. Is yonder the man? In the light of what follows, 
one can imagine with what interest Rosalind first surveys Or- 
lando. Notice, throughout, the difference in tone between her 
speeches and those of Celia, who is not falling in love. 

165. Ay, my liege ... us leave. Why does Rosalind, and 
not Celia, reply; and why does she say 'Yes' so readily, in spite 
of the fact that she and Celia had not crept hither? 

185-186. If you saw yourself with your eyes: if you 
dispassionately used your eyes, instead of being carried away 
by your spirits. 

191-192. Therefore: therefor, i. e., for so doing. 

195-197. Punish me not ... to deny: do not deal 
severely with me in your minds, in which I confess I a,m worthy 
of condemnation for denying. 

200. Gracious: favorably regarded. 

204. Only: belongs with fill. The young man, with no 
prospects ahead of him, is taking the darkest view of his relations 
with the world. Contrast what Oliver has said on the same 
subject (I, i, 172-177). 

221. Come your ways: Come on! In this and his pre- 
ceding speech notice Orlando's confidence in his physical prowess, 
combined with self-restraint and modesty. In what ways did he 
show these qualities in Scene i? 

222. Hercules: a hero in Greek mythology who was pos- 
sessed of superhuman strength. He is a prominent character in 
ancient Greek drama. 

238. Still: always. Imagine the different effects which Or- 
lando's announcement produces in the faces of Rosalind, the 
courtiers, and the Duke. Frederick is speaking with nervous 
abuuptness. 

244-246. I am more ... to Frederick. Orlando is left 
standing alone and communes with himself; the princesses linger, 
talking at some little distance. What statements of Orlando 
in Scene i does this strong speech remind you of? 

253. Envious. Consult the Glossary. 

258. Out of suits with fortune: discharged from fortune's 



scene hi.] Notes and Comment 123 

service. Suit has a double meaning: livery worn by retainers, 
and a petition for a favor. Rosalind now pauses a moment, 
expecting Orlando's thanks for her gift, before she turns to 
Celia with Shall nve go, coz? Then, as the two move slowly 
away she does not say farewell, like Celia, but keeps her eyes 
on Orlando. Picture for yourself the rest of this delightful 
episode. Is there any touch of humor in it? 

266-267. Overthrown . . . enemies. Rosalind's voice 
sinks as she makes this confession. Added to Orlando's per- 
sonality and prowess at wrestling, what circumstances have 
helped to win her heart for him? 

268. Have with you (in reply to Celia) : "I'm with you." 

270. Urged conference: tried to bring about conversation. 
Can you see any reason, in his character or circumstances, why 
"love at first sight" has affected Orlando so differently from 
Rosalind? 

278. Humorous: governed by humors, i. e., moods. This 
is the keynote of the Duke's character. He is at present full 
of unreasoning suspicion toward Orlando. 

296. In a better world: in a better state of affairs. This 
is the last we see of the formal, courtly Le Beau. What kind 
of man is he at heart? 

Does the tyrant Duke resemble the tyrant brother in any 
further respect? Orlando's closing words contain the sum of 
what has happened to him in this scene. He no longer feels 
(as in lines 198-205 above) that he has no outlook: he has 
received a new joy and motive in life — Rosalind. But at the 
same time he has met fresh trouble, the Duke's displeasure, 
which drives him from her neighborhood. 

Shakespeare again leaves us in suspense about his hero, — 
for we know that Oliver wishes him dead, — and quickly follows 
the two girls. Le Beau's words have made us expect trouble for 
Rosalind. 

Act I. Scene III. 

THE DUKE'S SENTENCE ON ROSALIND, lines I-I9 

16-17. I could . . . my heart. In the preceding scene we 
saw first something of Rosalind's whimsical humor, and then 



124 Notes and Comment [acti. 

her frankness and earnestness. Here all three are very closely 
mingled in her tones. 

18. Hem: cough. In the sparkling wits of these two girls, 
one word or phrase often quickly starts a chain of differing 
ideas. Notice just what has happened to Rosalind's metaphorical 
"briers" (line 12). 

33. Chase (literally, deer hunt) : following up a point, 
reasoning. 

37-38. Deserve well: i. e., deserve to be hated because the 
banished Duke had loved his father; hence Rosalind's reply. 

42. Eyes full of anger. With Le Beau's two last speeches 
in mind, do you feel that the mood in which the Duke hurried 
from Orlando, has had anything to do with this sudden outbreak 
against Rosalind? 

49. If with myself I hold intelligence (i. e., communica- 
tion) : if I know my own thoughts. 

55. Purgation: the act of proving oneself innocent (a legal 
iterm). 

64-65. Or, if we ... no traitor. Roused by the slur on 
her father (line 60), Rosalind is speaking with strong irony: 'If 
there is any treason in me, it was not from my father I derived 
it.' Friends: here includes relatives. 

72. Remorse: compassion. The fact stated by Celia is 
quite in keeping with Frederick's character; remember his pity, 
at first, for Orlando (I, ii, 168-172). 

75. Still: constantly (as frequently in the play). 

77. Juno's swans: Shakespeare's mistake, or a misprint, 
for Venus' swans. According to Ovid, with whose Metamor- 
phoses Shakespeare was acquainted, Venus' chariot was drawn 
through the air by a team of swans. Juno's chariot was drawn 
by peacocks. 

In the first part of this scene, Shakespeare has shown us the 
two great changes that have entered Rosalind's life since earlier 
in the day. Then, she had no anticipation either of any heavy 
care or of any strong joy; see her two speeches in I, ii, 16-17, 
26-28. 

ROSALIND AND CELIA PLAN FLIGHT, lines 92-140 

106. Heaven . . . pale. The trouble which she shares with 



scene l] Notes and Comment 125 

Rosalind seems to Celia reflected in the fading daylight. Celia's 
constant love — not a whit affected by the Duke's attempt to 
arouse her jealousy — is one of the things which wins ours for 
Rosalind. 

119. Curtle-axe: cutlass, short sword. 

124. That . . . semblances: who face it out (i. e., hide 
their fear) by means of their clothes and demeanors. Notice how 
quickly Rosalind's high spirit and sense of humor reassert them- 
selves. Contrast with this speech what she has said above since 
line 67. 

126-127. Jove's own page . . . Ganymede. Ganymede 
was a beautiful boy whom Jove, in the form of an eagle, 
carried off to Olympus to serve as his cupbearer. 

130. Aliena (Latin) : "stranger." 

135. Woo him: win him over. Remember Celia's banter- 
ing words to and about Touchstone on the lawn. Here she shows 
what lay beneath her words. 

Act I, with its many conflicting emotions, might have left a 
somewhat dark impression on us if it were not for the goodness 
of heart and power of seeing the bright side of things, which 
Celia and Rosalind have shown. How do the two compare in 
regard to appearance, and evenness of temperament? 

All the events of Act I (review them) have led up to Rosa- 
lind's banishment. Shakespeare now hastens to show us the 
place which she has set out for. 

Act II. Scene I. 

DUKE SENIOR IS TOLD OF JAQUES AND THE WOUNDED DEER 

2. Old Custom. These words and what the Duke goes on 
to say about the changing seasons quickly make us feel that he has 
been in exile a long time. Since the atmosphere of Arden is to 
be one of contentment and quiet pleasure, Shakespeare lets the 
banishment recede into the dark past. In Act I it was of prime 
importance: it accounted for Duke Frederick's uneasiness of 
mind, from which sprang his treatment of Orlando and of 
Rosalind. See note on I, i, 124-125. 

6. As: as for instance. 



126 Notes and Comment [actii. 

8. Which: in regard to which. 

10. These: the seasons (line 6). 

11. Feelingly: by making me feel. These unflattering 
counsellors treat the Duke like an ordinary descendant of Adam. 
He is contrasting their behavior with that of counsellors at the 
envious court (line 4). What unpleasant experience has he 
probably had with some of the latter? 

13-14. Which, like ... in his head. This superstition 
about the toad was widespread in Shakespeare's day. What is 
the precious stone that adversity carries in his head? 

23. Native burghers: born citizens. Desert: wild (not 
waste). The Duke unwittingly applies the same metaphor to the 
deer as Jaques had; see line 55. It at once recalls Jaques' 
musings to the First Lord. 

30-32. Did steal behind . . . along this wood. Summon 
up the scene presented by these few vivid words. The Duke's 
melodious verses have made us feel the presence of the forest; 
the First Lord's speech gives us certain representative objects 
to see. 

33. Sequestered: separated from companions. Cf. line 49- 

39-40. Coursed: chased. Fool: a term of fondness and 
pity (as in line 22 above). 

57. That poor and broken bankrupt. Just how does this 
apply to the deer? See note on line 23 above. 

58-60. Thus most invectively . . . this our life. The 
Duke and Jaques both moralize on what they see; but in quite 
different fashions; see lines 18-20 above. 

67-68. Cope: cope with. Matter: subject-matter. 

Act II. Scene II. 
duke Frederick's suspicion of orlando and Oliver 

3. Are of ... in this: have connived at the flight of 
Rosalind and Celia. Compare Frederick's speech, in tone and 
content, with II, i, 1-4. This scene, following Scene i, brings 
into strong contrast the temperaments and the circumstances of 
the two dukes. 

7. Untreasured: a fine metaphor invented by Shakespeare 



scene in.] Notes and Comment 127 

for the sake of Celia. We gather from this speech what the two 
runaways had decided in regard to "the fittest time and safest 
way"; see I, iii, 135-139. 

16. That youth . . . company. Notice just what grounds 
Hisperia has; is her coming to such a conclusion true to human 
nature? 

17-19. That gallant: i. e., Orlando. Suddenly: immedi- 
ately {not unexpectedly). The bad guess of Celia's gentlewoman 
is sufficient to make the capricious, tyrannical Duke take quick 
action against the brothers; remember his feelings in regard to 
the de Boys family (I, ii, 236-238). 

20-21. Quail: slacken. These foolish runaways. So the 
Duke terms the girls, although it- was his own foolish anger 
which caused their flight. Why does he not order that Celia 
be brought back without Rosalind, whom he has banished? 

This scene is important for the story of Oliver; for from the 
next scene we know that Frederick's officers will not find Orlando 
at home. 



Act II. Scene III. 
Orlando's flight 

5-6. Why are you . . . strong and valiant. This is a 
striking instance of how the words of one personage may convey to 
us the character of another; see introduction to Notes and Com- 
ment, page 113. Is Adam a trustworthy authority? 

7-8. So fond to: so foolish as to. Humorous: capri- 
cious. Adam sums up Frederick's character in the same term 
as Le Beau (I, ii, 278). 

13-15. Holy traitors: traitors free from guilt. En- 
venoms: poisons. Adam is too excited, at first, to make clear 
his meaning. From his next speech we learn just how Orlando's 
very excellence is likely to destroy him. 

18. The enemy of all your graces. Remember Oliver's 
half-admission to himself of the same fact (I, i, 170-180). How 
does his second plot against Orlando's life compare with his first? 

37. Diverted: turned aside. Blood: natural affection. 



1 28 Notes and Comment [Act ii. 

In his preceding speech, Orlando was dazed ; in this, his indigna- 
tion and despair break out. 

39. Thrifty hire: hire saved by thrift. Cf. youthful wages 
(line 67 below). 

52-53. Lusty: vigorous. Kindly: natural, seasonable. 
Adam's winter of life contains no weakness not due to nature 
(line 51). 

61-62. And having that . . . with the having: the very 
gaining of promotion enables them to slacken their service. 

65. In lieu of: in return for. Orlando speaks in a melan- 
choly way, as he did just before the wrestling (I, ii, 198-205). 
But the next sentence shows how his healthy spirit is rising to 
the occasion. 

68. Some settled low content: some place where we may 
settle down contentedly and get a humble living. The expres- 
sion is a good illustration of the way in which Shakespeare packs 
much meaning into few words ; see introduction to Notes and 
Comment, page 115. 

71-72. From seventeen ... no more. Shakespeare does 
not forget the pathos of the old servant's parting look at the 
place with which he has been connected for sixty years. Of his 
life during those years his preceding speeches have given some 
interesting glimpses. 

Rosalind devising sports (I, ii) and Orlando having trouble 
with his brother (I, i) were in widely different circumstances. 
In what particulars, since then, have their lives come to resemble 
each other? 

Observe the several ways in which Adam's function in this 
scene approaches that of Celia in I, iii. 

Act II. Scene IV. 

ROSALIND OVERHEARS SILVIUS, lines I-63 

6. Doublet and hose: 'coat and trousers'. The doublet 
was a tight jacket coming down a little below the girdle. In 
Shakespeare's day the hose were stuffed and puffed out about 
the hips; below, they fitted tightly like stockings. For Celia's 
appearance, see I, iii, 113-116. 



scene iv.] Notes and Comment 129 

12. Cross: (i)penny (so-called because in old days it had 
a cross stamped on it) ; (2) misfortune. Touchstone's fooling 
elicits no response ; Rosalind and her cousin are not now in the 
mood in which they bantered him on Frederick's lawn (I, ii). 
Notice the characteristic way in which each of the' three ex- 
presses his or her weariness. 

21. Solemn: earnest. In Corin's first audible speech, what 
does That is the way refer to? * 

29. As: although. From line 37, judge what position the 
two shepherds have taken up in the scene. 

45. By hard adventure: by painful chance. We have not 
heard Rosalind mention her love since I, iii, 40. Why? 

50. Chopt: chapped. 

51-52. Peascod: here stands for the whole plant. Cods: 
pea-pods. Touchstone goes on to call the plant her, just as he 
did the stone htm. 

56-57. Mortal in folly: mortally foolish. Touchstone's 
comical speech shows that a reminiscent vein in him had been 
touched by Silvius' question to Corin: Hoiu many . . . thy 
fantasy (lines 30-31). 

59. Ware: cautious. Rosalind used the word in the sense 
of "aware". 

61-62. Jove . . . fashion. With her sympathetic insight 
Rosalind perceives in Silvius the true passion; but how does his 
conduct in love compare with hers? 

ROSALIND ENTERS PASTORAL LIFE, lines 64-IOO 

66. Clown: boor. Notice the play on this word in Rosa- 
lind's rebuke. 

72. Desert: uninhabited. Observe how excellently, in her 
dialogue with Corin, Rosalind carries out her determination to 
hide her own low spirits and act well her part as male escort 
to Celia (lines 5-8 above). 

79. The fleeces that I graze: the sheep that I lead to 
pasture. 

83. Bounds of feed: pastures. 

91. If it stand with honesty: if it be not unfair to Silvius. 

95. Waste: spend. Account for the difference in tone be- 
tween this and Celia's preceding speech (lines 64-66). 



130 Notes and Comment [act ii. 

99. Feeder: sheep-feeder. The true country atmosphere 
breathes from old Corin's speeches. He gives evidence of having 
a sympathetic nature ; but observe the unemotional tone of his 
replies to the four who successively address him. 

Act II. Scene V. 

JAQUES' PARODY OF A MIENS' SONG 

3-4. And turn . . . bird's throat: make his song har- 
monize with the bird-music. What manner of man is Amiens? 
See II, i, 18-20. 

26-29. The encounter of two dog-apes: the meeting of 
two dog-faced monkeys. Beggarly thanks: the thanks of a 
beggar. How may the demeanor of an ape and of a beggar 
illustrate empty politeness? 

32. Cover the while: set the table in the meantime. 
Amiens' words here and in lines 64-65 enable us to imagine the 
background of this scene. 

36. Disputable: disputatious. What warrant is there for 
such a characterization of the gentle-mannered Duke? See II, 
i, 66-68. 

48-49. To this note: for the same tune. Invention: 
faculty of imagination. This introduction leads Jaques' hearers 
to believe that he is in earnest; Amiens' response shows that he, 
at least, is quite deceived. But the stanza proves to be simply 
a distorted version of the one which has just been sung. 

61-62. 'Tis a ... a circle. The others have gathered 
around Jaques; hence his explanation of the meaningless word 
due dame. 

The forbearance with which his companions treat Jaques 
implies a respect for him which is probably due partly to his 
station and partly to his intellect. 

Act II. Scene VI. 

ORLANDO SEEKS FOOD FOR ADAM 

6-7. Uncouth: unknown. Any thing savage: any wild 
(not fierce) animal. Orlando says nothing of his own hunger. 
8-9. Thy conceit . . . powers: you imagine yourself 



scene viij Notes and Comment 131 

nearer death than you really are. Hunger and despair have 
mastered Adam's confidence in his powers (II, iii, 47). 

9. Comfortable: cheerful. Orlando appeals to Adam's 
strongest sentiment, that of devotion to his young master. Notice 
the mingled humor and tenderness in this sentence. 

14. Well said: Well done! From this and what follows, 
picture Adam leaving the scene. 

Orlando's fortunes are now at their lowest ebb. Yet that 
touch of melancholy and self-distrust which he has shown in 
previous scenes is absent. Why? 

We are left to imagine why Orlando and Adam, in their search 
for some settled low content (II, iii, 68), have come to Arden. 

Act II. Scene VII. 

JAQUES AMBITIOUS FOR MOTLEY, lines I-87 

Enter Duke senior, Amiens. See the last line of Scene v. 

5-6. Compact of jars: made up of discords. The spheres: 
the eight concentric spheres in which, according to the ancient 
belief, the heavenly bodies were fixed. It was fancied that each, 
in its revolution, yielded a note, and that the eight notes together 
made a sublime harmony. The speech touches on the main 
function of Jaques in the play: he is the discordant note in the 
harmonious life of the Duke and the other forest dwellers. 

11. You look merrily. In Scene i we heard of Jaques' 
weeping. Compare his present mood with that in Scene v. 

13. A miserable world! An exclamation characteristic of 
Jaques. 

16. Railed on Lady Fortune. Jaques had apparently 
listened awhile unseen before accosting Touchstone. The court 
fool, of all men, was little likely to delight long in forest solitude ; 
hence his half-melancholy, half-comic musings, just now, on 
fortune, which had brought him there, and on time, which hangs 
heavy on his hands. 

19. Call me not . . . me fortune. There was a proverb: 
"Fortune favors fools." 

36. O worthy fool. Jaques' chuckling keeps him from im- 
mediately answering the Duke's question. 



132 Notes and Comment [act il 

39-40. Which is . . . after a voyage. A slow but reten- 
tive mind was thought to be the result of a hard, dry brain. 
Observe, then, the connection of this comparison with all the rest 
of the sentence. 

44. Suit. For the double meaning, see note on I, ii, 258. 
His meeting with Touchstone has inspired Jaques with a notable 
idea: if I, a wise and experienced man, might have a jester's 
liberty to speak without offense, I could renovate society with 
my criticism. 

56-57. Anatomized: see note on I, i, 162. Squandering 
glances: random hits. 

66. Brutish sting: animal passion. Jaques' ill-spent youth 
partly accounts for his present pessimistic attitude toward life. 
The Duke's point is: In your exhortations, you would simply 
make the world acquainted with more vice. 

71. Tax: censure. Notice that Jaques does not meet the 
Duke's excellent stricture ; see preceding note. He simply con- 
tinues his argument to the effect that he would not do anyone 
wrong. The whole speech deals with pride of dress. 

79-80. Basest function: lowest occupation. His bravery 
is not on my cost: his finery is none of my business, as I do 
not bear the expense. 

85-86. Free: innocent. Taxing: see note on Tax, line 71. 

We have now had a fairly complete view of Jaques' character, 
with its mingled charm and weakness. Observe the several ways 
in which Scenes i and v led up to this dialogue between him 
and the Duke. 

Jaques' account of Touchstone shows us that the household 
of Rosalind and Celia cannot be far distant from this part of 
the forest. In the meantime Orlando has been approaching from 
another direction. 

ORLANDO JOINS THE OUTLAWS, lines 88-200 

94. Vein: state of mind. Remember his promise to Adam 
at the close of Scene vi. 

96-97. Inland: as opposed to outlying, thinly populated 
districts, such as Arden; hence, in touch with civilization. 
Nurture: culture. What is it that makes Orlando suddenly 
resume his rough tone after this word? 



scene vii.] Notes and Comment 133 

107. Savage: see note on II, vi, 6-7. 

113-117. If ever you . . . and be pitied. These beautiful 
verses call up three definite images of civilized life, in contrast 
to that under the melancholy boughs. Each of the three 
makes a deep impression on the banished Duke; see the next 
speech. 

125. Upon command: at your will. 

139. All the world's a stage. After his initial brusque- 
ness to Orlando, Jaques became silent. The tender-heartedness 
beneath his cynicism has been touched by the young man's dis- 
tress. He now seizes upon the Duke's metaphor and expresses 
his feelings, — not in gentle words, like the Duke, — but in the 
way we should expect: by a clever satire on the littlenesses of 
this troubled life. 

151. Jealous: suspicious (not envious). 

156. Modern instances: commonplace illustrations. The 
fourth and fifth ages are represented by particular vocations. 
What period of manhood does each stand for? 

158. Pantaloon: a silly old man. Consult the Glossary. 

160. Hose. See note on II, iv, 6. 

163. His: its. 

167. Venerable burden. Adam enters in the same fashion 
as that in which he left Scene vi. 

178. Because thou art not seen. The winter wind is im- 
personal ; its unkindness does not hurt like that of a seen and 
known person. Cf. the thought of II, i, 6-u. 

183. This life: life in the forest amid the green holly. 
This song gives final expression to the dominant feeling of 
Act II: forest-content tempered with world-sadness. All the 
characters, — with the exception of Corin and Silvius, who play 
a more important part in the next two acts, — are city people and 
have always a consciousness of the evils of the outside world. 
This consciousness has been deepened for the moment by the ar- 
rival of the two new exiles. Hence the strain of bitterness in 
the song is very marked ; contrast the verses of Scene v. 

192. Whispered. Connect this word with the Duke's pre- 
ceding speech and judge what he has been doing in the mean- 
time. 

193-194. Effigies: likeness. Limned: drawn. 



134* Notes and Comment [act in. 

Compare the second part of this scene with the account of the 
same incident given in Lodge's novel ; see Introduction, page xv. 
In what ways are Orlando's speeches and actions, when he in- 
terrupts the banquet, more natural under the circumstances than 
those of Rosader? 

In Act I, the main plot — the story of Orlando and Rosalind — 
was developed rapidly. Act II has been chiefly concerned with 
creating a new background; to what extent has it advanced the 
plot? 



Act III. Scene I. 

OLIVER SENT TO FIND ORLANDO 

3-4. Argument of my revenge: object for my revenge 
to deal with. The Duke's suspicion of Orlando (II, ii) has 
deepened into certainty. Why? 

11. Quit: acquit. Observe the irony of Oliver's fate: the 
Duke naturally thinks that, with brotherly affection, he has 
aided Orlando's flight- Recall what really happened (II, iii). 

14. I never . . . my life: a fact which Oliver will have 
good reason to brood upon during his search. Nothing could 
be more likely than such a sentence as that imposed by the Duke 
to break Oliver's will. The tone of his reply shows that his 
pride has already weakened. 

15. More villain thou. Is it in accordance with human 
nature that the Duke should utter such a rebuke? Remember 
his treatment of his own brother. 

17-18. An extent upon: a complete valuation of. Ex- 
pediently: expeditiously. 

This scene takes us back in time. Shakespeare presents it just 
after he has shown Orlando safe and settled, thus making us 
realize the problem Oliver has before him; and just before re- 
storing Orlando to Rosalind, thus bringing out by contrast the 
changed fortunes of the two brothers. 



scene ii.] Notes and Comment 135 

Act III. Scene II. 
Orlando's love verses, lines 1-266 

One should bear in mind the two dwelling-places: the Duke's 
forest cave (II, vii, 197) and Rosalind's cottage at the edge of 
the wood( see lines 353-355 below). They are not shown us — 
from now on all the scenes are laid in the open air among the 
trees — but they are occasionally referred to. The cave forms a 
center for the sylvan life of the Duke's company; the cottage, 
for the pastoral life of Rosalind's associates. Of the cave 
group, only Orlando and Jaques appear in this act. The pastoral 
life is at once brought vividly before us by the dialogue between 
Corin and the fool, below. 

4. Thy huntress' name. Orlando refers to Rosalind as 
one of the attendant nymphs of Luna or Diana, moon-goddess 
and patroness of the chase. 

10. Unexpressive : inexpressible. Orlando has now much 
leisure for thinking upon his passion, which he did not men- 
tion in Act II. Notice his two methods of celebrating Rosalind's 
name. 

18-19. But in respect ... is tedious. See note on II, 
vii, 16. 

38-39. Like an ill-roasted egg all on one side: like an 
egg spoilt by being roasted only on one side. 

42. Manners: (1) behavior; (2) morals. It is by passing 
imperceptibly from the first to the second meaning that Touch- 
stone makes his point. 

50. But you kiss your hands: without kissing your hands. 
Corin does not detect Touchstone's ambiguous use of the word 
manners; what is his general line of defense? 

57. Mutton: sheep. 

75-76. God make incision in thee: (referring to the 
medical practice of blood-letting) God cure thee. Raw: green, 
inexperienced. Touchstone maintains throughout the superior, 
man-of-the-world bearing towards Corin which he assumed at 
their first meeting (II, iv, 66-68). 

79-80. Content with my harm: resigned to misfortune. 



136 



Notes and Comment [Act hi. 



Corin sees country life in its true light, neither over-praising 
nor underestimating it; see note on II, iv, 99. 

91-92. My new mistress's brother. This is the first hint 
of such a relationship ; since II, iv the two have told their 
shepherd an innocent fable. 

97. Lined: delineated. 

103. Butter-women's rank: a file of butter- women, mono- 
tonously jog-trotting one after the other. In what ways does this 
metaphor apply to Orlando's, poem? 

109. Will after kind: will follow its nature. 

125-128. Medlar: with a play on "meddler". The whole 
passage is a thrust at Touchstone's meddlesomeness: he is as 
forward as fruit that appears early and rots quickly. 

136-138. Civil: of civilized life. Erring: wandering. 

147-148. The quintessence of every sprite: the best 
quality of every living spirit. In little: in miniature. The rest 
of the poem is simply an expansion of the idea here put for- 
ward. 

153-156. Helen's . . . heart. Helen is the beautiful woman 
in Homer's Iliad who deserted her Greek husband, Menelaus, 
for the Trojan Paris, and to regain whom the Greeks besieged 
Troy. Cleopatra's majesty. The story of Cleopatra, the re- 
splendent queen of Egypt who tried to maintain her independence 
in the face of the growing Roman empire, is told in Shakespeare's 
Antony and Cleopatra. Lucretia's Modesty. Lucretia was an 
early Roman matron, famous for her beauty as well as for her 
purity. She is the central figure in Shakespeare's poem, The 
Rape of Lucrece- 

163. Pulpiter: preacher. 

171. Scrip: shepherd's pouch. Touchstone converts an 
urban saying into a pastoral one. Judging from the preceding 
speech, what have he and Corin been doing since line 130 
above ? 

179. Without: outside of. In this and her two preceding 
speeches Rosalind has assumed a matter-of-fact air, pretending 
that she has no curiosity as to the authorship of the verses. 

186-187. Berhymed . . . Irish rat. Pythagoras, an early 
Greek philosopher, held that human souls could inhabit the 
bodies of animals. There was a superstition that Irish witches 



Scene ii.] Notes and Comment 137 

could destroy rats with rimes. This speech shows that at 
Celia's entrance Rosalind had concealed the paper she herself 
had found. What was her purpose in so doing? 

191. A chain. See I, ii, 258. This is Celia's first hint of the 
great news she has to tell. By reading aloud her paper without 
comment, she had mischievously hoped to draw from Rosalind 
some expressions of wonderment. 

204. Good my complexion! Rosalind humorously ex- 
claims against the blushes which have drawn Celia's banter 
upon her; see line 192 above. 

206-207. One inch ... of discovery. Interpret this in 
the light of the whole speech: if you delay a second longer, my 
woman's curiosity will be as boundless as the unexplored South- 
Sea, or Pacific Ocean. 

221. Stay: wait for 

226. Sad: serious. And such is the tone of Celia's answer. 

233-234. Wherein went he: how was he attired? This 
question Celia manages to answer in line 258 below. 

239-240. 'Tis a word . . . age's size: the one 'word you 
ask for (see line 237) is too big for any mouth except that of 
Gargantua ("Great Throat"), a giant in an old story by Rabelais, 
a French humorist. 

245-247. Resolve: solve, answer. Observance: attention. 
Rosalind is too excited to obey the injunction. The three succes- 
sive bits of description which Celia gives her each suggest 
thoughts which she is unable to contain; see lines 263-264. 

257. Holla: whoa! Notice the metaphor involved in this 
word and curvets. 

260. Heart: with a play on "hart". 

Rosalind might have been made to come upon Orlando as he 
was hanging up his verses; or, like Celia, to find him reclining 
after his labors. What advantages has the present arrangement? 

GANYMEDE PROPOSES A CURE FOR ORLANDO, lines 267-457 

273-274. God be ... we can. "God be wi' you," "God 
b' w' you," or "God b' w' ye" are the older forms of "Goodbye." 
After this rude farewell, why does Jaques still remain? See 
lines 293-296 below. 



138 



Notes and Comment [Act hi. 



289. Conned them out of rings: learnt your answers 
from the sayings engraved inside rings in goldsmiths' shops. 

290. Right painted cloth: in the very language of painted 
cloth hangings. These, which had the same function as our 
modern wall-paper, were adorned with mottoes and sayings. 

297-298. I will . . . most faults. Orlando's low estima- 
tion of his own qualities has appeared before. The vehemence 
of this speech is due to his dislike of Jaques' self-satisfaction. 
But Jaques' answer shows that he is as impervious to the im- 
plied rebuke as he was to that of the Duke ; see note on II, vii, 71. 

316. Very well. As Orlando has already talked with Celia, 
he shows no surprise at seeing the two strangers. Would his 
present mood, too, help to account for this curt reply? 

334. Hard: uneasy. Cf. line 331. 'Jolted' by hopes and 
fears, the maid seems to live through seven years in a week. 
Contrast the easy pace described in the next speech. 

352. Where . . . youth? This sudden personal question 
shows that Orlando has become thoroughly interested in the 
clever boy; see V, iv, 28-30. 

362-363. Religious: living a hermit's life. Inland. See 
note on II, vii, 96. 

364. Courtship has the double meaning of "life at court" 
and "wooing". Observe how Rosalind is contriving to lead 
Orlando to the subject of his love. Her first endeavor, lines 
320-323 above, was unsuccessful; why? 

382. Fancy-monger: dealer in love-fancies. For fancy 
consult the Glossary. 

392-393. Blue eye: eyes dark about the lids. Unques- 
tionable: unwilling to be talked to. Rosalind takes the oppor- 
tunity to feed her eyes on every detail of her lover's appearance. 

396. Simply: indeed. Having: possession. For the fact 
thus humorously rendered, cf. line 219 above. 

398. Bonnet unhanded: hat with the band off. 

421. A dark house and a whip: the old method of treat- 
ing insane people. Rosalind covers her joy at Orlando's certainty 
of the depth of his love with a new outburst of boisterous 
humor, at the same time setting on foot her scheme for ensuring 
further meetings. 

435. Color: kind (as in I, ii, 107). 



scene hi.] Notes and Comment 139 

436-437. Entertain him: accept him as my lover. 

443-445. Wash your liver ... of love in't. The liver 
was held to be the seat of the passions, such as love. Rosalind's 
simile is in keeping with her guise of shepherd-youth. 

450. I will. Why does Orlando, just after having said he 
does not wish to be cured, assent to Ganymede's proposition? 
See note on line 352 above. 

Rosalind's second meeting with Orlando is the crisis, the 
center-point of the play. The rest of the main plot is devoted to 
its results. The chief of these Shakespeare reserves for Act IV, 
and, in the remainder of the present act, takes up the stories of 
two pairs of very different lovers. 

Act III. Scene III. 

TOUCHSTONE POSTPONES HIS MARRIAGE 

8-9. Capricious: (from the Latin capra, a goat) originally 
meant goatish; Touchstone plays on the two senses of the word. 
Goths:' pronounced "Gotes" ; hence a pun on goats. Audrey's 
occupation was considered much lower than that of a shepherd. 
In her company Touchstone can indulge his feeling of courtly 
superiority to the full. 

10-11. Ill-inhabited: having a poor habitation (i. e., a 
fool). Worse . . . house: worse than having the greatest 
of the gods in a poor cottage. The allusion is to the Greek 
story, as told by Ovid, of Baucis and Philemon, an aged 
Phrygian woman and her husband, who entertained unawares 
Zeus and Hermes while these gods were traveling in disguise. 

15. Than a . . . little room: than being presented with 
an unexpectedly large bill in a poor inn. Nothing could better 
express the one way in which Audrey disturbs that self-com- 
placency of Touchstone's which in other respects she is designed 
to flatter; see note on line 9 above. 

21. Supply it before may be said. 

26. Honest. Consult the Glossary. 

32. Material: full of matter, ideas. The same comment 
has been passed on Jaques himself; see II, i, 68. 

36. Foul: homely. Cf. line 33. Touchstone's light regard 



140 Notes and Comment [Act hi- 

for Audrey's simple goodness must not be taken too seriously: 
it is part of his man-of-the-world attitude. 

58. Rascal: a lean, worthless deer. 

62. Defense: the art of defense. 

64. Sir: the title which was formerly given to a priest. 

75. God 'ild you: God yield, i. e., reward you. 

76-77. Toy: a trifling matter. Pray be covered. 
Jaques has kept his hat off in mock deference to the other three. 
The fool reciprocates by adopting a patronizing air. 

80. Bow: collar. 

The relations between the matter-of-fact Touchstone and the 
unromantic Audrey provide comic relief for the love theme of 
the two scenes between which the present one falls. 

Act III. Scene IV. 

ROSALIND WAITING FOR ORLANDO 

1. I will weep. Cf. II, iv, 4-5- But in the present instance 
the mood is much more pronounced; why? 

9. Something browner than Judas's. It was traditional 
that Judas had red hair. Dark red hair was considered an 
indication of a deceitful nature; see preceding line. 

16. Cast: chaste; with a pun on cast in the sense of "cast- 
off". 

17-19. A nun of ... is in them. Celia invents a religious 
order symbolic of the ice of chastity. From this and the pre- 
ceding speech one gathers that Orlando has already been acting 
his part of pretended wooer. 

35-37. He attends . . . your father. Celia suddenly puts 
off her jesting tone and seriously suggests a reason for Orlando's 
non-appearance. Behind her sprightly banter there is always a 
tender sympathy with Rosalind's mood. Cf. I, iii, 1-5. 

38. Question: conversation. The reason Rosalind did not 
at once make herself known to her father, whom she had come 
to Arden to seek (I, iii, 109), is suggested in this speech. 

45-48. Quite traverse . . . noble goose. By not riding in 
a straight line, a tilter might break his lance clumsily across 
his adversary's breast, instead of directly against it. 



scene v.] Notes and Comment 14 1 

Act III. Scene V. 

ROSALIND REBUKES PHEBE'S PRIDE, lines I-80 

6. But first begs pardon. For the construction, see note 
on III, ii, 50. It was the custom for the executioner to kneel 
and ask the victim's pardon. 

7. Dies and lives by: makes his whole living from. Cf. 
line 4. 

23. Cicatrice and capable impressure: mark and per- 
ceptible impression. See cicatrice in the Glossary. Phebe's 
whole speech has for its text her two opening lines. Her point 
is: The fine illustration you have given does not apply to my 
case at all. 

38-39. I see no . . . dark to bed: your beauty is not so 
brilliant as to give light in the dark, if you go to bed without a 
candle. May: is likely to. 

43. Sale-work: ready-made goods. Rosalind returns to the 
metaphor in line 60 below. 

47. Bugle: black glass bead. One may gather from Rosa- 
lind's words that Phebe is a pretty brunette. 

50. Like foggy . . . and rain. Wet winds come from the 
south. Just how does the simile apply to Silvius? 

51. Properer: handsomer. Cf. proper, line 55. The con- 
trast which Rosalind draws between the looks of Phebe and of 
Silvius is perhaps the sharpest of all her thrusts at the girl's 
personal vanity. 

62. Foul: ugly (as in III, iii, 39). 

66-70. From the pronouns in this speech, judge when Rosa- 
lind is looking at Phebe and when at Silvius. 

74-75. If you . . . hard by. Why does Rosalind give 
Phebe the information just after having repulsed her? 

Herself deeply in love with a good man, Rosalind can have 
little patience with Phebe's attitude; see lines 57-58 above. 
What other reasons are there for her so drastic intervention 
on behalf of Silvius? See note on II, iv, 61-62. 

PHEBE FINDS A USE FOR SILVIUS, lines 81-139 

81. Dead shepherd: a reference to the poet Marlowe, 



142 Notes and Comment [Act iv. 

from whom the ensuing quotation Is taken. Phebe is so pre- 
occupied that she has forgotten the presence of Silvius; see her 
next speech; with what movement is it accompanied? 

85. Why . . . Silvius. Observe Phebe's new tone to her 
lover; what she little expected has come to pass; see lines 31-34 
above. 

93. Yet it is not: the time is not yet come. The reader, 
knowing the hopelessness of her love for Ganymede, feels that 
such a time may be nearer than Phebe suspects. Her new-born 
sympathy for Silvius will make their constant companionship 
bear fruit. 

104. Scattered. Notice how this word keeps up the meta- 
phor which runs through this fine speech. Silvius of course 
suspects that Ganymede will reap the main harvest. 

106. I have met him oft. This is one of the very frequent 
hints in regard to what occurs between the scenes. We have 
never seen Silvius meet Rosalind before. 

123. Mingled damask: the red, mixed with white, of Rosa- 
lind's cheek, in contrast to the full red of her lip. Note the 
difference between the looks of Rosalind and Phebe. 

125. In parcels: bit by bit. In the same manner and for 
the same reason Rosalind observed closely Orlando's appearance; 
see note on III, ii, 392-393. 

138. Passing: exceedingly. 

Account for the extent to which blank verse is used in this 
act; see introduction to Notes and Comment, page 115. 

Phebe's sudden infatuation for Ganymede is the second im- 
portant event of this act. For its results Shakespeare keeps us 
waiting, just as he has for a further meeting between Orlando 
and Rosalind ; see final note on Scene ii above. 

Act IV. Scene I. 

THE MOCK WOOING, lines I-IIO 

4. I do love it. For another version of the same fact, see 
II, v, 12-14. 

7. Modern censure: commonplace criticism. Rosalind im- 
plies that Jaques' affected melancholy is more open to ridicule 



scene i.] Notes and Comment 143 

than drunkenness. Her keen wit can give him a severer thrust 
than honest Orlando was able to in III, ii. 

11. Emulation. The scholar's melancholy is due to his envy 
of the intellectual achievements of others. Observe how each of 
the subsequent epithets (fantastical, proud, etc.) at once de- 
scribes and accounts for the kind of melancholy in question. 

24. Rich eyes. The force of this is clear from Jaques' 
answer. 

34-38. Disable: decry. Swam in a gondola: been at 
Venice. Why does Rosalind keep talking after Jaques, instead of 
replying to Orlando's blank verse (line 30) ? 

42-43. Within an hour of my promise. See III, iv, 20-21. 

48-49. Cupid hath . . . heart-whole: love (like a legal 
official) may have tapped him by way of arrest, but has not taken 
any bit of his heart into custody. 

67. Leer: appearance. Celia's single sly jest reminds us 
that she is looking on with interest and amusement. Her quiet 
humor, so voluble when she and her cousin are alone, retires 
before the dazzling play of wit which Orlando's presence calls 
forth from Rosalind. Cf. Ill, ii. 

68-69. In a holiday humor. Rosalind is acting the part of 
changeable mistress, as she promised to in III, ii. At the same 
time she is really very anxious to hear from Orlando words that 
he would say to his very very Rosalind. 

74. Gravelled: stuck (like a boat in shallow water). 

94. By attorney: by proxy. 

97-106. Troilus . . . Leander . . . Hero of Sestos. 
Troilus, one of the sons of Priam, King of Troy, fell madly in 
love with Cressida, daughter of the seer Calchas, during the 
Trojan war. When she turned her affections to the Greek Dio- 
medes, Troilus endeavored to lose his life in battle with the 
Greeks. The story is told in Shakespeare's Troilus and Cressida. 
According to Greek legend, Leander, after visiting Hero, the 
beautiful maiden of Sestos, was drowned while attempting to 
swim home to Abydos, across the Hellespont. Rosalind playfully 
says that Leander's death was caused by a cramp while he was 
out bathing, though the poets and chroniclers, like a foolish 
coroner's jury, have brought in a verdict that his death was 



144 Notes and Comment [Act iv. 

due to his love for Hero. The story is told in Marlowe's Hero 
and Leander. 

THE MOCK MARRIAGE, lines III-224 

112. Coming-on: yielding. Ganymede adopts a different 
attitude from the one she has just been assuming (see line 92 
above) in order to lead up to the mock marriage ceremony. To 
Orlando, of course, the affair is simply pastime ; to her it means 
a great deal: she is really plighting her troth to her lover. 

116. Yes, faith, will I. The part Rosalind is now acting 
corresponds so nearly to her feelings that a dangerous tender- 
ness creeps into her light tone. But observe, in her next speech, 
the quick reaction. The swift transition in her tone from half- 
tenderness to a concealing boisterousness, and then back again, 
constitutes the main charm of the scene and should be closely 
followed below. 

140. Before: faster than. Rosalind has not waited for 
Celia to say her part. Observe the double-meaning, imper- 
ceptible to Orlando, in the remainder of the speech. 

151. Barbary cock-pigeon: one of a breed of domestic 
pigeons introduced into England from Barbary, having a short, 
broad beak and related to the carriers. 

152. Against rain: before rain. New-fangled: fond of 
novelty. 

154-155. I will . . . the fountain. In Shakespeare's time 
fountain figures of Diana weeping were very common. 

177-178. Her husband's occasion: an occasion for taking 
advantage of him. Rosalind is now talking of married couples 
in the same jesting vein as that in which she dealt with lovers 
in the first part of the scene. 

201. Religion: sense of obligation. 

204. Try: bring them to trial. 

205. Misused: abused. Orlando gone, Celia immediately 
gives voice to her pent-up banter. Observe the extent to which 
Rosalind has deserved the rebuke; see note on lines 177-178 
above. 

222. Shadow: a shady spot. To what extent does Rosalind's 
tone here differ from that in line 182 above? 



scene ii] Notes and Comment 145 

Compare this scene with the account of the same incident in 
Lodge's novel; see Introduction, pages xvi-xvii. Observe (i) 
the particulars which Shakespeare has suppressed; (2) the very- 
different nature of Rosalind's speeches to Rosader. 

Rosalind's closing speech testifies to a truth of which there 
are many other indications: her love at first sight (I, ii) has 
been deepened by time and experience and, most of all, by her 
talks with Orlando; see note on III, iv, 1. 

Act IV. Scene II. 

SINGING HOME THE HUNTSMAN 

5-6. Branch of victory. It was the custom to present the 
most skilful huntsman with a garland or some such token. 
Notice the pun on the word branch. Jaques' sentimental pity 
for hunted deer (II, i, 25-28) does not prevent him from taking 
part in the celebration of a successful hunt. 

9-10. Sing it . . . noise enough. Cf. Jaques' earlier com- 
ment on singing, II, v, 17-18. 

12. Horns to wear. The jocular theme of the song is in 
line with Jaques' suggestion (lines 4-5). The carcass of the 
deer is of course needed for the Duke's table. 

13. Then . . . burden: probably a stage-direction, i. e., 
intended only for the actors. The whole company join in the 
ensuing burden, or refrain, and move off with the successful 
huntsman in their midst. 

This lively little scene reminds us of the purely sylvan life 
of the Duke's company which is going on in the background; see 
introductory note to III, ii. It serves also to fill in the two 
hours which elapse between scenes i and iii. 

Act IV. Scene III. 

phebe's love-letter, lines 1-75 

7. This. Here Silvius hands over the letter, and while he 
is uttering apologetic words — characteristic of his gentle nature 
— Rosalind opens and glances through it. 



146 Notes and Comment [Act iv. 

9. Stern brow and waspish action. Phebe has thus de- 
ceived Silvius in regard to the tenor of the letter by her 
demeanor as well as by her statement previous to writing it 

(III, v, 134). 

14. Play the swaggerer: act like a bully. 

25. Freestone-colored: of the color of brownish-yellow 
stone. 

29. A man's invention and his hand: a man's ideas and 
hand-writing. Cf. lines 33-34 below. 

35-36. Such Ethiope . . . their countenance: the thought 
they express is blacker than their appearance on paper. 

39. She Phebes me: she addresses me in the Phebe-style, 
i. e., tyrannically. Rosalind has ironically represented the 
letter as having, as Silvius supposes, an angry tenor, in order 
now to arouse his indignation by suddenly showing him how 
deceived he has been. 

49. Meaning me a beast. What Phebe really means ap- 
pears from the first two lines of the poem. 

58. By him seal up thy mind: seal up your reply in a 
letter and send him with it. Her love-blindness has prevented 
Phebe from perceiving how impossible it would be for a person 
of Ganymede's frank nature to be a party to her deception 
of Silvius. 

73-74. If you . . . not a word: if you really love her you 
will not entreat me to have her. 

Considering Phebe's treatment of Silvius, what in Rosalind's 
reply to the letter, and in her method of transmitting it, is 
especially calculated to break the girl's pride? 

Oliver's account of his conversion, lines 76-183 

79-81. Neighbor bottom: neighboring valley. Rank: 
row. Left: passed by; this word modifies stream. What new 
details are here given in regard to the position and immediate 
surroundings of the cottage? 

87-88. Of female . . . ripe sister: feminine in ap- 
pearance, and conducts himself as if he were Celia's elder 
sister. Whose tongue gave Oliver this description appears from 
line 153 below. 



scene in.] Notes and Comment 147 

94. Napkin: handkerchief. See line 98. 

102. Fancy. Consult the Glossary. 

105-106. An oak . . . dry antiquity. Compare the details 
given in this description with those in II, i, 31-32. 

107. A wretched . . . with hair. This line makes one 
think of the physical suffering which Oliver has undergone 
during his wanderings. Does it suggest any corresponding 
mental struggle which would help to account for his subsequent 
conversion? See note on III, i, 14. 

113. Indented: zigzag. Test the force of each of the other 
terms applied to the snake's appearance and movements. 

123. Render: report. For the dramatic effect of this 
speech, see note on III, v, 106. 

135. Contrive: plan. Celia has been prepared by Orlando's 
conversation to take an interest in Oliver ; see preceding note. 
Rosalind, on the other hand, is chiefly interested in Orlando's 
treatment of him; see her two questions above. 

142. As: for instance (as in II, i, 6). 

160. There . . . Ganymede. In her alarm, Celia almost 
gives away Rosalind's secret: she does not accede to Oliver's 
explanation of the swoon, and then forgets to call her cousin 
"Brother." 

171-172. Passion of earnest: real emotion. 

181. Rosalind. Oliver adopts his brother's name for Gany- 
mede — half in fun and half in sympathy for the supposed youth's 
weakness. One important function of this scene is to show the 
better side of Oliver's nature; see note on I, i, 177. 

The major part of this act is devoted to the results flowing 
from the two central events of the play; see final note on Act 
III. Observe that the stories (1) of Rosalind and Orlando, and 
(2) of Rosalind and Phebe, are now so far advanced that in 
each case we are prepared for a decisive outcome. The con- 
version of Oliver starts a development which, in the next act, 
brings on the conclusion. 



148 



Notes and Comment [Act v. 

Act V. Scene I. 

TOUCHSTONE DISCOMFITS HIS RIVAL 

3-4. For . . . saying: in spite of what the old gentleman 
said ; see III, iii, 84-90. 

11-14. Clown: lout. We shall be flouting; we cannot 
hold: we must needs be mocking people; we cannot restrain 
ourselves. Remember Touchstone's delight in discomfiting also 
Corin. 

16. God ye: God give you. 

30-31. Art thou wise? This question is in substance the 
same as Touchstone's first one to Corin (III, ii, 22-23) an d has 
the same purpose, namely, to lead the other to expose himself 
and feel his inferiority to Touchstone. 

35-39. The heathen philosopher . . . lips to open. Wil- 
liam is probably gaping at the other two; Touchstone therefore 
suggests that wise men open their lips to better purpose. 

48. Ipse (Latin) : "he himself." The point of Touchstone's 
nonsensical figure in rhetoric was: Audrey cannot belong to two 
men. He now adds: I am the man. 

52. In the vulgar: in common speech. While lacking 
Corin's intelligence, William has the same genuine rural self- 
sufficiency; hence his stolid complacency, quite impervious to 
Touchstone's wit. The fool's only course is to overwhelm him, 
in rising tones, with language he cannot understand. 

61. Bandy with thee in faction: contend with you by 
means of conspiracy. 

68-69. Trip Audrey ... I attend. Touchstone hastily 
dismisses Audrey in one direction and follows Corin in the 
other. 

Act V. Scene II. 
ganymede's promise to produce rosalind 

4. Persever: persevere; so spelled becaused pronounced 
persever. 

13. Estate: settle. Oliver is of course now in a position 
to resume his property, which Duke Frederick is temporarily 



scene il] Notes and Comment 149 

withholding (III, i, 9-12). The two brothers are probably on 
their way to the cottage. We are given just the close of their 
conversation, but enough to show us how different is the attitude 
of each toward the other from what it was in the first part 

of I, i. 

14. Live and die a shepherd. Oliver has felt the charm of 
the forest; it has undoubtedly helped to bring out his better 
nature. Observe that, since the opening lines of Act II, Shake- 
speare has constantly been showing the gentleness, cheerfulness, 
and contentment in human nature — all thriving in the forest 
atmosphere. 

20. Brother. Rosalind, with a smile, addresses Oliver thus 
because he is the lover of her supposed sister- Oliver, chiming 
in with her humor, calls her sister, because she is the pretended 
betrothed of his brother; see note on IV, iii, 181. 

34-35. I . . . overcame: a translation of Julius Caesar's 
famous saying in regard to his own military skill, Veni, vidi, 
<vici. 

36. No sooner met but they looked. See note on IV, iii, 
135 ; consider whether in that scene there were any evidences of 
attraction between Oliver and Celia, and any circumstances which 
would favor its growth. 

42-44. Incontinent: without the slightest delay. They 
are in . . . cannot part them. In Rosalind's whimsical 
fancy, the impetuosity of the lovers is like that of wrathful 
combatants eager to get at each other. 

59. Conceit: understanding. 

66. Conversed with: been acquainted with. 

67. Not damnable: not guilty of practising black magic, 
which was an offense against both the state and the moral law; 
it was sometimes punished with death. Rosalind's friend prac- 
tises white, i. e., innocent, magic — by means of science, not by 
league with the devil. 

69. Gesture: behavior. Cries it out: proclaims. 

71. Into what straits of fortune. Oliver has of course 
brought from court the news of the flight of Rosalind and Celia. 

77. Tender dearly: hold dear. See note on line 67 above. 

88. Him. Rosalind strongly emphasizes this word; she 
wishes Phebe to transfer her looks and love from Ganymede to 



150 Notes and Comment [Act v. 

Silvius. The emphasis appears in the meter: Look upon him, 
love him; he worships you. 

90. It is . . . and tears. See note on III, v, 50. 

94. And I for no woman. Imagine the tone of Rosalind's 
voice here. Ostensibly she is asserting her own "heart-whole- 
ness" over against the love-sickness of her companions ; in reality 
her mood is echoing their wistfulness. 

109. To love: for loving. As Silvius has finished the 
statement she asked of him (line 89), Phebe this time takes the 
lead and gives her reply, which she has till now withheld, to 
Rosalind's exhortation; see note on line 88 above. 

Observe the way in which Oliver's desire for a quick 
marriage has served to hasten the conclusion of the stories of the 
other lovers. 



Act V. Scene III. 

TOUCHSTONE LISTENS TO A LOVE SONG 

I. To-morrow. See final note on Scene ii above; and infer 
what has passed in the meantime between Touchstone and 
Rosalind. 

4-5. Dishonest: immodest. A woman of the world: 
a married woman. 

10. Sit i' the middle. This enables one to picture the group 
of four during the song. 

II. Clap into *t roundly: strike into it straightway. 
13. Are the only: are only the. 

15-16. A tune ... a horse: one tune . . . one horse. 

20. Ring time: marriage season. 

35-37. Though there . . . very untuneable: there was 
not much sense in the words, nor have you rendered the music 
both in a tune (line 15). 

The pages' carol, with its theme of lovers' taking the present 
time, provides a suitable interlude between two scenes occupied 
with marriage preparations. For the further purpose of this 
brief scene, see final note on IV, ii. 



scene iv.] Notes and Comment 15 1 

Act V. Scene IV. 

TOUCHSTONE BEFORE THE DUKE, lines I-II3 

4. As those . . . they fear. In my most sanguine mood 
I am afraid I am building only on hope, and I am conscious of 
a fearful anxiety that nothing will come of it: the hope is un- 
certain ; the fear is certain. The Duke's question is one which 
the reader, too, is inclined to ask. Orlando's answer is perfectly 
satisfying: his desire for Rosalind, made desperate by his mock 
wooing of Ganymede (see V, ii, 55), will snatch at any straw. 

8. That would . . . with her. This hearty speech evinces 
the admiration which the Duke has conceived for Orlando during 
their association in the forest, of which we have seen only the 
beginning; see the closing speech of II, vii. 

See explanation of feminine endings in the introduction to 
Notes, page 117; notice the number of these endings in lines 
8-34, and determine whether the eifect has anything to do with 
the tone of this part of the scene. 

27. Lively: life-like. Favor: looks. 

32-33. His uncle . . . great magician. Orlando's speech 
shows that he has been revolving in his mind the source and the 
possibilities of Ganymede's magic art. He has concluded, with- 
out warrant, that the uncle and the magician mentioned by 
Rosalind are identical; see III, ii, 361-363 and V, ii, 64-68. 

35. Toward: at hand. 

45-48. Purgation: see note on I, iii, 55. Measure: a 
courtly dance, in which the movements were slow and measured. 
Like: was likely. Observe the comic effect of the cumulative 
order of Touchstone's proofs. 

50. Ta'en up: made up. Cf. line 104 below. 

56. I desire you of: I wish to you. The like: the 
same. The fool meets the Duke on equal footing; see note on 
I, ii, 60-61. 

58. Copulatives: Touchstone's fancy word for people wish- 
ing to be married. He is taxing his vocabulary to the utmost 
for the occasion. 

62-63. Rich honesty . . . poor house. Compare what 



152 Notes and Comment [act v. 

Touchstone says here about Audrey's sterling inner quality 
with his earlier remarks on the same subject, and account for the 
difference; see note on III, iii, 36. > 

65. Sententious: full of pithy sayings. 

67. Bolt: a clumsy arrow used for shooting short distances. 
There was a proverb: "A fool's bolt is soon shot." Touchstone's 
rejoinder therefore means: Yes, in accordance with the nature 
of such sweet disorders as the fool's clumsy wit. 

72. Seeming: seemly. Conjecture what Audrey is doing. 

73. Dislike: express dislike for. 
80. Disabled: as in IV, i, 34. 

94. O, sir . . . the book. Touchstone had of course in- 
vented the seven degrees, at the same time representing them as 
established custom. Jaques is curious to see whether he can 
remember them. Touchstone triumphantly replies: O yes; I 
have learnt them from books. There were actually, in Shake- 
speare's day, certain books on the etiquette of quarreling. What 
are the seven degrees in a quarrel ? 

112-113. Stalking-horse: a horse, or a painted image of 
one, under cover of which the hunter approached his game. 
The Duke means: He is not such a fool as he pretends. He 
shoots his wit. The Duke probably has in mind the metaphor 
which Touchstone used above in affected dispraise of his own 
wit; see note on line 67. 

Observe what thorough advantage Touchstone has taken of 
the opening provided by the mention of his having been a 
courtier (line 42 above). Meanwhile Rosalind and Celia have 
had time to arrange their little pageant. 

THE NEWS OF DUKE FREDERICK'S CONVERSION, lines II4-204 

Still music: low music. 

116. Atone: become at one. By having a person attired as 
Hymen, god of marriage, present her to the Duke, Rosalind 
wished to symbolize the fact that it was her desire to marry 
Orlando which restored her at this time to her father. 

141. Sure together: indissolubly joined. This is probably 
spoken to Touchstone and Audrey. Hymen has passed from one 
pair of lovers to another, joining their hands. Observe what 
takes place during the ensuing song. 



scene ivj Notes and Comment 153 

154. Even daughter: dear as a daughter. 
156. Fancy: love. Combine: bind. For the change in 
Phebe's attitude toward Silvius, see note on III, v, 93. 

162. Addressed a mighty power: got ready a great 
army. The moody Duke Frederick's attitude toward the exiled 
band had changed; see I, i, 105-109. 

163. In his own conduct: under his own leadership. 

166. An old religious man. See note on III, ii, 362. Was 
such a sudden conversion consistent with Frederick's character? 
See note on I, iii, 72. 

173-175. Thou offer'st fairly: you bring splendid gifts. 
A potent dukedom. To which brother does this gift fall, 
and how? 

179. Shrewd: harsh. 

194. You to ... . doth merit. This in spite of his former 
sneers at Orlando's love ; see III, ii, 299-300. The happy turn 
of events has shaken Jaques for the moment out of his satiric 
attitude; the true feeling which there is in him appears strongly. 
Hence, too, his parting thrust at his former favorite, Touch- 
stone, in whom he has found a tinge of his own cynicism. 

EPILOGUE 

2-3. Unhandsome: unbefitting. It was not the common 
custom in Shakespeare's time to have the prologue or epilogue 
spoken by a character in the play. The lord: the hero of the 
play. 

4. Needs no bush: requires no recommendation. A bush 
or tuft of ivy was the sign customarily hung at the door of a 
wine-dealer. 

9. Insinuate with you: ingratiate myself with you. 

18-19. If I were a woman. The epilogue was delivered 
by the boy who acted the part of Rosalind. In the public theaters 
of Shakespeare's day female roles were taken by men or boys. 

20-21. Liked: pleased. Defied: repudiated. 

One's appreciation of As You Like It will be increased if, 
with the play fresh in mind, one considers how Shakespeare has 
transformed the material he took from Lodge's novel; see Intro- 
duction, pages xx-xxi. 



QUESTIONS ON THE PLAY 



ACT FIRST 

Which of the characters in this act do not appear again? 
What has each of them contributed to advance the plot? What 
indications are there in Scene i of Orlando's physical prowess 
and courage? Why then has he submitted until now to ill- 
treatment from Oliver (see also II, iii, 31-37) ? What several 
reasons may he have for desiring to wrestle with Charles, and 
why in disguise (line 131)? Does Charles seem sincere? Is 
there any reason for deeming his confidence of success ill- 
founded ? What is the dramatic effect of Le Beau's news in 
Scene ii (lines 129-140) ? How is this effect heightened by the 
Duke's speeches? What might Orlando have expected from the 
Duke after defeating Charles? What similarity is there be- 
tween the causes of Rosalind's depression in the beginning of 
Scene ii and of Scene iii, and between her conduct in each case? 
Can you explain from their characters why in each of these 
scenes Rosalind has less than Celia to say about their mutual 
affection ? 

ACT SECOND 

On what grounds might the scenes be divided into the follow- 
ing three groups : i, v, vi, vii ; ii, iii ; iv ? Why does Rosalind 
in Scene iv, as on no other occasion, call the jester good 
Touchstone (see also I, iii, 131-135) ? What good purpose does 
his light talk serve? How far is the difference between his 
and Rosalind's tone to Corin accounted for by their respective 
stations in life? What chief factor would in the past have 
drawn Adam to Orlando, rather than to Oliver? On the other 
hand, what special circumstances make Adam's sacrifice in Scene 
iii a great one? How is the action of the second group of scenes 

155 



156 Questions on the Play 

brought into connection with that of the first group? Why 
did not Shakespeare place Scene i between Scenes iv and v? 
How is the story of the wounded deer made to yield at once 
characterization and scenic background? What part of it pre- 
figures Jaques' speech in Scene vii, lines 139-166? How did 
Shakespeare prepare us in Act I for the friendship of Duke 
Senior and Orlando? 

ACT THIRD 

Had Rosalind known of Orlando's departure from home? 
What besides perplexity does she experience in Scene ii on find- 
ing the verses? How is her state of mind evidenced in her 
replies and commands to Touchstone? Which of Orlando's 
replies to Jaques would she overhear with most delight? How 
has she gained courage to accost Orlando (contrast her tone in 
lines 231-232) ? Does Scene iii remind you of anything Touch- 
stone said in Act II, Scene iv ? Contrast the tone of the first 
and last lines in Scene iv; what trait in Rosalind's character 
is illustrated? In Scene v is Phebe entirely to blame for her 
treatment of Silvius (see II, iv, 22) ? In speaking of his love 
does Orlando ever use language such as that in lines 99-104? 
What is the main theme which runs through this Act, in con- 
trast to that of Act II ? 

ACT FOURTH 

In what ways is Rosalind's attitude toward Phebe's pride 
recalled by her treatment of Jaques' melancholy in Scene i; and 
of Silvius' submissiveness in Scene iii? On what earlier occasion 
did Rosalind say of Silvius the same words Celia uses now, 
Alas, poor shepherd! (Scene iii, line 65)? What contrast, 
then, presents itself between the temperaments of Rosalind and 
Celia? With this in mind, how do you account for Rosalind's 
swooning (Scene iii, line 157)? What earlier instances are 
there of her being at all overcome by her emotions? What do 
you judge from this scene of Oliver's ability in the use of 
language (see also Act I, Scene i) ? Does Orlando show 
similar ability — for instance, in Scene i? Is the comparison at 



Questions on the Play 157 

all significant for their difference in temperament? What in- 
stances are there, in addition to the one given in this scene, 
of Orlando's kindness? 

ACT FIFTH 

What takes place behind the scene during Scenes i and iii? 
How has the contrast which was presented between Touchstone 
and Silvius in Act II, Scene iv been borne out in their respective 
love affairs? Then what, in addition to his wit, accounts for 
Touchstone's condemnation of the pages' ditty in Scene iii? Why 
has Shakespeare not permitted an encounter between Touchstone 
and Silvius? What two aspects of Touchstone are shown by 
the reasons he gives in Scene iv for his choice of Audrey? Can 
the sudden love of Celia and Oliver be at all accounted for 
from their respective natures? For what reason has Rosalind 
not sooner revealed her identity to Orlando, and in which of her 
lines in Scene ii is it suggested? What dramatic purpose is 
served in Scene iv by the remarks of the Duke and Orlando on 
Ganymede's looks? Do you judge from this scene that Jaques 
has profited at all by his association with the Duke? 



GLOSSARY 



Allottery, allotment, share ; 

I, i, 77- 

Atomies, motes in a sunbeam; 

III, ii, 245; III, v, 13. 

Bastinado, beating with a 

cudgel; V, i, 60. 
Batler, a small wooden bat 

used in clothes-washing; 

II, iv, 49. 
Beholding, beholden, obliged; 

IV, i, 60. 

Bob, hit, jest; II, vii, 55. 
Bonny, stalwart; II, iii, 8. 

Capon, chicken; II, vii, 154. 

Carlot, churl; III, v, 108. 

Chanticleer, the cock; II, 
vii, 30. 

Cicatrice (cicatrix), mark or 
scar left after a wound 
has healed ; III, v, 23. 

Conceit, conception, thought; 
II, vi, 8; V, ii, 59. In 
present common usage, 
the meaning is limited to 
one's conception of one- 
self. 

Conned, learnt by heart; III, 
ii, 289. 

Convertites, converts; V, iv, 
190. 



Cony, rabbit; III, ii, 357. 
Cote, cot, cottage; II, iv, 83; 

III, ii, 448; IV, iii, 78. 
Counter, a piece of stamped 

metal, representing a coin, 
used in counting; hence, 
a ridiculously small stake 
in a playful wager ; II, 
vii, 63. 
Cousin, a near relative; the 
sense is wider than in 
present usage; I, ii, 163; 
I, iii, 44. The word is 
used also as a mere com- 
plimentary term; II, vii, 

173- 
Coz, short for cousin ; I, ii, 1 ; 

IV, i, 209. 

Desert, wild place; II, vi, 
19; II, vii, no; III, ii, 
133. The word does not 
mean, as frequently in 
present common usage, 
waste land. 

Dole, lamentation; I, ii, 139. 

Embossed, swollen; II, vii, 
6 7 . 

Envious, malicious, spiteful ; 
the meaning is broader 
than in present usage ; I, 
i, 149; I, ii, 253; II, i, 4. 



159 



i6o 



Glossary 



Extermined, exterminated, 
ended; III, v, 89. 

Fancy, fantasy, love-fancy, 
love; II, iv, 31; III, ii, 
382; III, v, 29; IV, iii, 
102; V, ii, 100; V, iv, 156. 

Favor, appearance; IV, iii, 
87. Cf. Ill-favored; V, 
iv, 60; and Ill-favoredly ; 
I, ii, 42. 

Fells, skins, fleeces; III, ii, 

55- 
Graff, graft; III, ii, 124. 

His, its; II, vii, 163; III, ii, 

138. 

Honest, frequently means vir- 
tuous, chaste ; I, ii, 41 ; 
III, iii, 26, 28; Cf. Dis- 
honest; V, iii, 4; and 
Honesty; III, iii, 30; IV, 
i, 85; V, iv, 62. 

Hooping, shouting; III, ii, 
203. 

Humor, mood, state of mind; 
III, ii, 439. In present 
common usage the mean- 
ing is limited to one par- 
ticular state of mind. 
Cf. Humorous, full of 
changing moods; I, ii, 
278 ; II, iii, 8 ; IV, i, 19. 

Hurtling, noisy conflict; IV, 
iii, 132. 

Hyen, hyena; IV, i, 157. 

Intendment, intention; I, i, 
140. 



Kind (noun), nature; III, ii, 
109; IV, iii, 59. Cf. 
Kindly, pleasant and natu- 
ral; II, iii, 53; and Un- 
kind; II, vii, 175. The 
meaning of these words is 
broader than in present 
common usage. 

Kindled, brought forth; III, 
ii, 358. The word is re- 
lated to Kind; see above. 

Liege, lord; I, ii, 165; I, iii, 
66. 

Make, do; I, i, 31; II, iii, 4. 
Manage, training, especially 

of horses; I, i, 13. 
Medlar, a tree with fruit 

somewhat like apples ; 

III, ii, 128. 
Mewling, squalling; II, vii, 

144. 
Misprised, undervalued ; I, i, 

177; I, ii, 192. 
Moe, more ; used only before 

a plural; III, ii, 278. 

Pantaloon (from Pantaleon, 
the patron saint of 
» Venice), the name given to 
the character of an old 
dotard who figured in 
Italian comedy; II, vii, 
158. 

Pard, leopard; II, vii, 150. 

Parlous, a colloquial form of 
"perilous"; III, ii, 45. 



Glossary 



161 



Parts, qualities; I, ii, 261; II, 

ii, 13; III, ii, 155. 
Perpend, ponder; III, ii, 69. 
Phoenix, a fabulous bird 
which was the sole repre- 
sentative of its kind, and 

which was reincarnated 
from its own ashes once 

in 500 years; IV, iii, 17. 
Point-device, finically neat; 

III, ii, 402. 
Poke, pocket; II, vii, 20. 
Practise (verb), plot; I, i, 

156. 
Practices (noun), plots; II, 

iii, 26. 
Priser, prize-fighter; II, iii, 

8. 
Proper, comely; I, ii, 129; 

III, v, 51, 55, 115. 
Puisny, inferior, unskilled ; 

III, iv, 46. 
Purlieus, open grounds at the 

edge of a forest; IV, iii, 

77. In present usage the 

word means precincts in 

general. 

Question, conversation ; III, 
iv, 38; V, iv, 167. Cf. 
Unquestionable; III, ii, 
393 (see note). 

Quintain, a wooden figure of 
a man, used for tilting at 
in country sports; I, ii, 
263. 

Quotidian, a fever with daily 
recurring paroxysms; it 
was often regarded as a 



symptom of love; III, ii, 

383. 
Rank, gross, of coarse 

growth ; II, vii, 46. Cf. 

Ranker; IV, i, 85; and 

Rankness; I, i, 91. 
Recountments, things re- 
counted, narratives; IV, 

iii, 141. 
Right, downright, exact; III, 

ii, 103, 127, 290. 
Roynish, unruly; II, ii, 8. 

Sad, serious; III, ii, 156, 226. 

Sans, without; II, vii, 166. 

Se'nnight, seven-night, a 
week; III, ii, 333. 

Simples, medicinal herbs; IV, 
i, 16. 

Smother, thick smoke; I, ii, 
299. 

Spleen, caprice; IV, i, 217. 

Stanzo (from the Italian), 
stanza; II, v, 18. The 
word was new 7 in Shakes- 
peare's time; hence Jaques' 
question. 

Still, very frequently means 
always, constantly; I, ii, 
238; I, iii, 75; III, ii, 54, 
409. 

Swashing, swaggering, 
blustering; I, iii, 122. 

Tapster, a person employed 
in a tavern to tap, i. e., to 
draw, and vend liquor ; 
III, iv, 34. 

Tax (verb), accuse of faults, 



162 



Glossary 



satirize; II, vii, 71. Cf. 
the substantives Taxing; 

II, vii, 86 ; and Taxation; 
I, ii, 91. In present com- 
mon usage the meaning is 
limited to "accuse," as in 

III, ii, 368. 
Thrasonical, boastful (from 

Thraso, a braggart in 
ancient comedy) ; V, ii, 
34- 

Umber, a brown earthy sub- 



stance used for coloring; 
I, iii, 114. 

Videlicet (Latin), "that is"; 

IV> i> 97- The contracted 

form, viz., is common in 

present usage. 
Withal, an emphatic form of 

with; III, ii, 328, 330; 

with this, therewith ; I, i, 

139; I, ii, 29; besides; II, 

vii, 48. 



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